Neo-Los Angeles, Ri
The Night of A Thousand Stars - The Eighty-Ninth Role Holder Ceremony
“Screw you, karma.”
.
.
.
“Tonight, we crown the newest crop of the face of the city; the chosen ones! Welcome, the new generation, the new Puppeteers of Neo-Los Angeles!” Jocelyn Grace’s high-pitched lilt echoed around the packed auditorium. An uneasy murmur stirred among the crowd with parents crossing their fingers, as their thirteen year old children stared in wait.
It was the eighty-ninth Role Holder Ceremony. The Head Role Holder descended from above, dressed in a black hooded cloak, holding an ancient looking scroll. The tattered parchment was held together by a loosely tied crimson ribbon. The Role Holder’s hair was tucked inside the cloak, giving no hint of whether or not the Role Holder was male or female.
The women chosen to be Role Holders were usually much more compassionate than the men. Men simply read the lists like they were grocery shopping and left the room before parents could launch a lightning bolt, or pelt him with silver bullets.
Jocelyn stood at the front of the stage, her pink eyes glowing like a cat’s, as she clapped giddily at the Role Holder’s painstakingly slow arrival. Jocelyn’s platinum blonde hair was let down for the occasion, in short, bouncy curls, that reached her uncovered, tattooed shoulders. Sparrows flew from one shoulder to the other, in a sea of brilliantly realistic color. She was wearing a tight, strapless, bright blue dress, offsetting her eyes, her hair, and her asymmetrical thigh-high stockings; the left sock was black and white striped, while the right one was solid black, paired up with black high heeled ankle boots. Her happy-go-lucky demeanor contrasted against the solemn parents and the fidgety teens, eyes focused on the Role Holder, whose feet finally touched the floor.
The Head Role Holder for the Eighty-Ninth Role Holder Ceremony was a woman. Her hood slipped off her head, revealing navy blue tresses, glittering under the fluorescent lights. The cloak had a v-neck cut, revealing blue veins that ran through her neck, throbbing faintly. Blue veins in Neo-Los Angeles were not common. It was a rare genetic gift; it showed that you were one of the few that held the lives of many.
“Wow, she’s really hot.” The lazy drawl of Tyler Myracle-Hayden broke the silence that had been kept for about…twenty minutes in the back of the auditorium. The girl next to him gave him a glare, her piercing green eyes flashing with annoyance. She was lithe, slender and tall, without a trace of acne on her perfect porcelain face. For a thirteen year old, she showed promise of becoming a model.
“Ugh, keep your sick fetishes to yourself, Tyler.” The blonde retorted, crossing her arms over her emerald silk covered chest. She was wearing a forest-green gown, shimmery and slinky, that went all the way to the floor. It made her eyes pop, and the girl knew that half of the teenage male population was focused on her, instead of the woman that would be deciding the fate of their lives.
Tyler flicked his long, blond bangs back, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. He wrapped an arm around the girl and gave her a squeeze. “Don’t worry, Sabrina, my heart belongs to you.”
Sabrina scoffed and unlatched Tyler’s arm from her shoulder, giving him a glare and a kick to the shin. Tyler yelped in pain, his black skinny jean-clad leg now showcasing a bruise under the fabric.
“Really, now, let’s all be friends, after all-” A pause in a girl’s sarcastic spiel caused Sabrina and Tyler to cease their pointless bickering to direct their attention to the newcomer. “-we might become enemies in a couple of hours.”
In her rebel-princess glory, Anabel Starr stood in her black tulle frock, arms crossed and cobalt blue eyes staring the two blondes down. Sabrina let out a short chuckle before summoning a staff made of thorns and branches, with a blood red rose at the end.
“I’m not here to fight, dah-ling.” Anabel quipped, before a slight breeze began to pick up.
Wait, what?
Tyler looked around in awe-struck amazement, as wind that had come out of nowhere whipped around the raven-haired girl, forming a staff that fell into Anabel’s right hand. Anabel flicked her blunt bangs back, before flashing a smirk.
“After all, wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of your potential suitors.”
Sabrina let out a scoff and recalled her weapon, which disappeared in a flurry of rose petals. Anabel’s wind staff disappeared into the atmosphere. Tyler shook his head and pouted.
“Not fair. You guys get the cool powers and I’m stuck with the lame power of manipulation over sound waves.”
“Oh, boo hoo for you.” Anabel and Sabrina both said, while simultaneously rolling their eyes.
Back in the front of the room, the Head Role Holder was making some important announcements.
“Hello, citizens of Neo-Los Angeles, and the rest of the…country of Ri.” Her voice was strained. She took a deep breath after every clause or so, as if she didn’t get enough air, she would faint and wither away.
Which was likely, considering her too pale skin.
“My name is Chrysanthemum La Roux.” Her golden eyes wavered from the parents to the thirteen year olds, as her lips turned up at the corners. It was a half-hearted attempt at a smile. “I will be announcing the one-hundred names that will be joining the Puppeteers this year. I…would like to thank you…all for coming…tonight. This…trip must be hard…considering…the fact that many of you…are from across the country…hee-hee…” Chrysanthemum’s golden eyes suddenly focused on the trio in the back.
There was a hiatus in her speech, as a Cheshire cat grin appeared on her once angelic face. “Ah. Well…this is interesting.”
Jocelyn Grace stopped her tittering and twirling, as a confused look flashed in her pink eyes. “Excuse me, Miss Chrysanthe?”
Chrysanthe tilted her head to the side, and shrugged ever so slightly. “Ah, never…mind. Moving on, with the ceremony.” The cat like leer disappeared and her angelic smile returned once more.
A chill ran through the collective spine of the audience. Parents began to murmur among themselves: who was Chrysanthemum La Roux and where did she come from?
No, that was the wrong question. The right question was: who the hell let her become the Head Role Holder? She was a golden eyed.
But no one was thinking about that. All they wanted to know was who would rise to riches and fame, and who would be forced to work in slavery.
“…ahaha.” Chrysanthe let out a chuckle, as a girl with cherry-red hair screamed bloody murder, her pupils dilating as she fell to the floor, writhing in pain.
Screams erupted from the crowd as frantic citizens fought each other for the exit. Sabrina Rose and Anabel Starr stayed put, summoning their weapons as Tyler Myracle-Hayden ushered the older people to safety. Groups began to form, the higher class of the nation joining Sabrina, while the…not so classy stood next to Anabel. Both girls acknowledged the shift of power, with a nod to the opposite side, as they ran towards their Head Role Holder.
What had happened, that was the question that Hayley Munoz, a girl from Manhattan, New York, was asking. Her lollipop-orange hair was a break from conformity, cut in the pixie-style; the rough layers framed her fox-like face. She wore a wolfish grin as she skipped through the screaming people, laughing at their misfortune.
“So, Miss Head Role Holder girl?” Hayley arrived to where Chrysanthe stood, hands in her neon yellow skinny jean pockets.
“…Hayley Munoz.” Chrysanthe smirked as she dusted off her black cloak, waiting for Hayley’s continued question.
“You just caused Janelle Isop of Alabama to keel over, right? That is a pretty interesting power, if you ask me.” Hayley put the words out like she was dishing out sandwiches, instead of stealth insults. Chrysanthe merely smiled and turned towards the rest of the teens.
“Well, Miss Munoz, I am not a fan of bragging. Now that your parents are out of the picture, I will begin to call names.”
Chrysanthe unrolled the faded parchment, where perfectly scribed ink penmanship listed the one hundred names that would become Puppeteers, rulers of the society they lived in. Two from each state where chosen, to be exact one boy and one girl.
But before her pink glossed lips uttered a sound, a golden light bathed the Role Holder, burning her skin and robe away, revealing her true form; her Guardian Form.
Even arrogant Anabel and sophisticated Sabrina flinched at the sight of the heavenly creature. Now towering over them by a good three feet, Chrysanthemum was no longer a mortal, but a celestial being with white skeletal wings, and shocking blue hair, the color of the ocean, constantly changing its hue. The only constant were the golden irises, peeking under from her blue bangs. Instead of her drab and depressing black hooded cloak, she wore a white robe, fashioned like a toga, one shoulder covered while the other showcased a golden glittering tattooed wing. Her veins were even brighter than her hair, popping out from her pale skin, screaming for attention from the crowd.
The attention was granted. The eyes of the thirteen year old crowd stared and let out a flurry of ‘ooh’ and ‘ahs’ at the sight of their Role Holder’s true form.
“Now that that is settled. I will start from Alabama…the Puppeteers would like to welcome Henry McIntosh and…”
The list of names seemed endless for Anabel, who clenched her fists and prayed that California would come soon. She snuck a glance at her friend and rival: Sabrina Rose.
Sabrina stared right back, and the two girls slowly made their way towards each other.
Only to be intercepted by Tyler Myracle-Hayden, whose hands found each of the girl’s. His right held Anabel’s left hand and his left held Sabrina’s right hand.
Sabrina felt disgusted by being in the blond rocker’s presence, deeming herself too ‘good’ to be holding hands with him.
Anabel felt like she could die happy. Her cobalt gaze flickered towards Tyler, as she hoped that he looked at her, even for a second.
But no. He was being distracted by Sabrina Rose. As usual.
Anabel looked away, her lips twitching into a grimace. She could live without Tyler Myracle-Hayden ignoring her, sure.
That was a lie. Even though the other half of the male population that wasn’t attracted to Sabrina Rose begged to differ, Anabel thought she was ugly. That she was a horrible monster when she stood next to Sabrina. Sabrina was beautiful, perfect in every way…while Anabel was the opposite of perfection. She was far too broken to be repaired.
And they were only thirteen. That hurt the most.
“California would like to welcome…”
This was it. The hour of reckoning. Anabel squeezed Tyler’s hand as Sabrina closed her eyes.
“Mister Tyler Myracle-Hayden and…”
Tyler let out a sigh of relief as he let go of the girls’ hands and ran up to the Head Role Holder, taking his place as a new Puppeteer. As an official member of society. Sabrina let out a twisted chuckle, almost ready to step on the stage next to Tyler, almost ready to get her fast-pass into the modeling world. She would become a Puppeteer of California, move to New York, and start there. It was so obvious that she, Sabrina Rose, out of hundreds of other girls would become the next Puppeteer.
So she smirked, as Anabel shook her head.
“Miss…”
Chrysanthe took another breath. Anabel’s manicured nails dug into her palm, blood oozing out of the punctured skin. It was time to find out that Anabel’s perfect fairytale was not coming true. She was going to lose to Sabrina Rose, yet again, and be forced to work as a slave for some random Puppeteer that she did not care about.
Oh, screw you karma.
“Anabel Starr.”
Sabrina Rose felt her world end as soon as the last syllable escaped Chrysanthemum La Roux’s mouth. What, what?! There must have been some kind of mistake! Anabel STARR? How COULD SHE be the next Puppeteer, the chosen?! She was not fit to become a member of high-class society, not even close! Sabrina’s mind was working in overdrive, her skin crawling with goosebumps that came out of pure fury. There was no way in HELL she was going to let this one slip by.
“What the hell?” Sabrina spat, her green eyes furious, as a pair of briars made their way inside the auditorium, currently outside the building, nearing the windows.
Anabel Starr felt like she was on top of the world. She had won the war that she had waged with her dear friend, Sabrina Rose. Anabel was going to win Tyler Myracle-Hayden, too.
This day just got better and better. Anabel let a smirk grace her lips as she skipped away, her black heels click-clacking against the tile flooring.
“Excuse me?” Sabrina hissed as she turned on her heel, facing the leaving brunette. Anabel’s eyes widened in alarm, as she quickly stepped away from the shaking blonde. The raven-haired teen was so close to taking her place in society, next to Tyler Myracle-Hayden, but was being held up by…her best friend.
No, screw that. Anabel shook her head and held it high, as she turned away from Sabrina and click-clacked away towards Chrysanthe. Her black strapless dress swished as she walked, and a sarcastic smile replaced her smirk. Anabel stood next to Tyler, her blue eyes flickering lazily across the crowd, already creating her image. She was Anabel Starr, future queen bitch of the generation.
Sabrina Rose stared in rage and snapped. The blonde summoned her staff so quickly that even Hayley Munoz was surprised when a thorny briar that had come out of nowhere attacked Anabel. The brunette screamed as the plant wrapped itself around the girl, while other teens screamed at the show of massive power.
Chrysanthe yelled some words that were not of Sabrina’s concern. The blonde wanted blood and she was going to get it. She clenched her fists, as Anabel felt her breathing get shallower and shallower…
“That is enough.”
The calmly said phrase caused a stand-still in the teenage crowd. At the auditorium doors stood a tall, about a good six feet, woman, dressed in the finest cloak, made out of precious silks. Her violet eyes were narrowed, and her beautiful ash-blonde hair was pulled back in a severe bun. There was a crown on her head, emblazoned with rubies and diamonds that glittered like the sun.
“It’s her!”
“What is she doing here?”
“Oh my goodness.”
“I thought she was a myth!”
“…oh, goodie gosh dolly, another royal.”
“Like, eh mah gawd, I will have to call you like, back, like Stacy? A royal is like, here!”
“Dear Jesus Christ, why today? Why do we have to deal with her today?”
“Well, this is an interesting development. I should record this and upload it on my Tumblr. That’ll show ‘em!”
“Whoever just said something about Tumblr needs to go home and die.”
“Oh shut up, whoever you are.”
“Holy fuck.”
The last cluster of words was emitted by the one and only, Tyler Myracle-Hayden. The blond rocker fell to his knees, bowing in respect for the woman that had arrived. Sabrina halted her assault on Anabel, who had fallen into unconsciousness while everyone was not looking. Only Hayley Munoz paid attention to her surroundings, and was currently making her way towards the briar patch that had ingrained itself in their auditorium. She took out a small dagger, hot to the touch. The orange-haired girl began burning away the excess plants with a flick of her knife, as Sabrina Rose was pushed towards their newcomer.
“Queen Amethyst…” Sabrina was at a loss for words, as she bit her perfect glossed lower lip. The Queen of Ri directed her purple irises towards the blonde plant-controller and gave her a tight-lipped smile.
“Sabrina Rose. I’ve heard much about you.”
That was all she said before directing her gaze towards Chrysanthe, who sneered at the Queen. Amethyst’s lips twitched in distaste.
“Chrysanthemum La Roux, interesting seeing you here. Are you done with the calling of names? I need to speak with you.” Then, the elderly woman’s nose caught on to the smell of something burning.
“Who is the pyromaniac? There is something burning in here.”
All eyes turned towards Hayley Munoz and her burning dagger. The combat-boot wearing girl simply grinned as she held the fainted body of Anabel Starr in her arms.
“She kind of needs medical help. After all,” a smirk adorned her features now, as Sabrina bit back the urge to sic her plants after Hayley and Anabel, “Anabel’s a Puppeteer.”
At the mention of the word ‘puppeteer’ the crowd went into frenzy. They wanted to know who was left, who would move on in society. Chrysanthe huffed as she unrolled her scroll once more, her skeletal wings shuddering slightly. “…someone get that girl to a hospital. You.”
A gum bubble popped before the owner answered. “Yeah?” He had curly brown hair and dark brown eyes, that changed to blue in a second’s notice. He was from the state of Montana, and was skimming through his email account via his eyescreen, a computer integrated into your eye, before jolting to attention. “What’s up?”
“You are a healer. Get her healed, stat. I do not want any more distractions. And you,” Chrysanthe snapped as a faceless Guardian appeared at Sabrina’s side. The blonde girl protested as the Guardian took the girl’s arms and began to escort her away from the group.
“You are going with the Guardians. They will decide your fate for attacking a Puppeteer.”
Sabrina screamed obscenities, as Anabel stirred back into reality, after a quick healing spell muttered by the Montana boy. The girl blinked, as she looked up, and stared into monochrome blue eyes, and felt her cheeks flush. The Montana boy was carrying her in his arms, and slowly set her down, his brown curls briefly covering those beautiful blue eyes.
“…uh, I’m Anabel.”
“…” The boy looked down at his feet before answering. “…I’m Ryan, but…everyone calls me Red.”
“…they are your eyes.” Anabel said, suddenly, as Red’s eyes changed into a warm burgundy. “They turn…red.”
“Oh, that? Well…yeah.” Red trailed on as he got up and away from the raven-haired girl, nodded, and turned back towards his peers. Anabel nodded and then turned towards the screaming blonde.
“Fuck you, fuck the system, I hate you all!” Sabrina’s angry tirade was beginning to get farther and farther away. “I hate you, Anabel Starr! I hope you rot in Hell!” Sabrina’s words crash landed in Anabel’s mind, and the brunette tilted her head groggily, as the phrase constantly repeated itself, like a broken record.
“I hate you, Anabel Starr!” Did a simple reaping destroy their ten years of friendship, just like that?
Apparently so.
Hayley Munoz approached Anabel warily, and poked the brunette’s shoulder.
“You all right, Miss Puppeteer gal?”
Anabel rolled her eyes and scoffed, the gentleness she showed with Red now long gone. “I am perfectly fine. I was not dying or anything.”
“Little Miss Snarker. Lovely. What is next, do tell me, Little Miss Badass?”
Sabrina Rose continued screaming, even when she was deposited her on her butt in front of the Guardian Security Office, where the tall creatures met up and dealt with…rebellious behavior.
Oh, was Sabrina Rose in for a treat!
Tyler Myracle-Hayden was now backstage, hanging out with the rest of the Puppets turned Puppeteers. He played with his Menger’s sponge, always hanging on a chain from his skinny jean pocket. His fingers expertly moved the tiles and blocks, already forming a wall of uniform colors. Janelle Isop, of Alabama who had ironically become a Puppeteer minutes after hitting the floor, was sipping bubbly apple cider, grinning like the idiot we all know she was.
“Like, ohmigod, this is so cool! They never had this stuff back home.” She giggled, while waving her hand.
“This is California. We know style.” Tyler commented off-handedly, too focused on his puzzle to actually pay attention. Janelle perked at the comment from the cute blond boy so she scooted closer to him, their shoulders touching.
“I’m Janelle~”
“I know.”
Janelle pouted, her plum-lipstick highlighting her own hazel eyes, her red blunt bangs grazing her eyebrows. It was a clash of color, plum, hazel, and red…working into some kind of harmony.
It was odd, to say the least.
“So, what is your power, Tyler?”
“Sound wave manipulation.” Tyler finished up his puzzle, with a satisfactory grin. The blond twirled his Menger’s sponge on his fingers, his eyes focused on the glittering gold cube. Janelle twirled a strand of cherry-red hair, annoyed that the rocker had not asked for her power. So she told him anyways.
“I can control lightning. It is really fun~!” Janelle said cheerfully, snapping her index and thumb fingers. A crack of lightning fell from the sky, frying the nearest lamp, causing a snarky comment to come out of an Arkansas’ teen’s mouth.
“Hey, bolt bitch, cut the thunder out before I kill you.” The boy from Arkansas narrowed his eyes. He had been reading up until his light source fried thanks to Janelle. His eyes were the darkest green, like a forest at night. His hair was dark brown, in a mix of waves and straight hair. He looked like a tree, in all honesty.
“Oh shut up, Hyacinth.” Janelle snapped and returned her gaze to the blond boy.
“That’s nice.” Tyler checked his cuticles and then flexed his fingers. He was getting awfully bored and Janelle’s babbling was getting awfully annoying.
Then, Anabel Starr entered the scene, disgust in her eyes, but a smirk on her lips. She strode towards the middle of the oval-shaped room, took a glass of cider, and sipped it with an air of reserve. Her black manicured nails contrasted against the golden liquid that was getting smaller by the second. Anabel knew how to down a drink, and fast. It was one of her many…quirks, you could say.
“Yo, Ana!”
“If you call me Ana again, Myracle-Hayden, I am going to punch your pretty face.”
Tyler let out an ‘hmph’ and a laugh, before getting up-leaving Janelle all by her lonesome- and walking towards Anabel. The brunette’s gaze was directed away from Tyler, who kept trying to direct it to him. He knew that she knew that he knew that she liked him.
Okay, not really. That would be much too complicated for our favorite blond rocker. The only thing he knew was music and art.
“Aw, come on Ana. You wouldn’t do such a thing.” Tyler grinned, but the grin was soon wiped off his face when Anabel’s fist landed in his face. Tyler fell back, and the teens wrestled on the ground, Anabel taking every opportunity to relish in the contact of their skin. These moments in which Anabel was simply Anabel and Tyler was not such a complete jerk ass, were the moments Anabel lived for.
The fact of the matter was that these moments rarely ever came. They were handed on a silver platter to Sabrina Rose, however, who had tried to freaking kill her, only minutes before. Anabel was pissed off about that and was planning to get her revenge. She had been on the brink of death because of that homicidal maniac blonde. It was as if they were not best friends and had not spent the last thirteen years together, joined at the hip.
You see, Anabel, Tyler, and Sabrina had grown up together, all part of the same little loser Californian town, with dreams of seeing the bright lights of Neo-Los Angeles. They yearned for a loft on one of the sky-high skyscrapers, the true definition of rich and famous. They wanted to be able to walk to the nearest frozen yogurt stand and download the latest gossip on their eyescreens over gulps of the frosty dairy. Anabel and Sabrina wanted to go to the same art school, Anabel for poetry and literature, Sabrina for modeling and photography. Tyler would be with them too, of course. He would break the hearts of other teenage girls with his stunning good looks and fantastic vocal chords.
Obviously, some of those dreams would have to be edited.
Most of those dreams came true for Anabel tonight. She was finally part of the higher crust of society, part of the glitz and glamour. She would attend a different school next week, a school for new Puppeteers where they taught you how to further control your powers and how to make an impact that would actually matter in society later on. They taught you the ins and outs of Puppeteer culture. She would live in one of those fancy, sky-high apartments and share a dorm with another Puppeteer, from which state, who knew? Most new Puppeteers ended up transferring into California’s school system, or New York’s, depending on your choice of study. The other Puppeteers chosen tonight would return to their home state and live life like Anabel: privileged.
Oh, and the best part of being a Puppeteer was the fact that you controlled five to six Puppets. They were your servants and you could tell them to do whatever the hell you wanted them to do.
Anabel Starr was ready for the big leagues.
Hayley Munoz was chosen for New York’s girl Puppeteer as Anabel rose from the ground. The orange haired wanna be pixie princess skipped in her combat boots down the hall that led backstage. With a devilish grin, she stormed through the doors, and crashed into Janelle Isop.
“Hey, ‘tis be valley girl. Not really, move it. Ahaha.” Hayley shoved the brunette out of her way and took a seat on a one of the unoccupied sofas. Hayley swung her legs up and reclined back, her long bangs covering her eyes.
Hayley Munoz’s eyes were an interesting…case, to say the least. They flashed from gray to burgundy, and then gray again. Rumor had it they changed color based on mood, but that would mean that Hayley was in constant state of two moods: sarcastic and pissed off. So the public decided that Hayley simply invested in some costly surgery that changed her eyes into…kaleidoscope eyes.
No one really knows what her true eye color is, anyways. Most people don’t care.
“Hey, Miss Puppeteer Gal?”
Anabel scoffed as she picked off imaginary lint off her black dress. Hayley ignored the clear disdain radiating of the black-haired girl.
“So, how does it feel almost dying?”
“That’s none of your concern.” Anabel snapped, before flopping on the coach opposite of Hayley.
Hayley simply grinned her Cheshire cat grin, and closed her silver eyes.
-
a/n: SOUND OFF, YO.
