Next Step-- Genocide (2)

Her roommate was a Quebecée, who were once an unrecognized culture. They had been viewed for generations as an extension of the Parisian or Nicee, as a colony from Area I. Fifty years prior, the Head Parsons Union voted and decided that sect had evolved substantially into a different manner. They had never considered themselves to be from Area I, unlike the sects south of them, who had remained linked to their brethren. Despite the evolution of each heritage, no matter which city-state they lived, they naturally dwelled in their sect. The Quebecée were proud of their ability to progress, and their Deacon frequently praised it.

Lanae, personally, was envious of the Quebecée’s past. She feigned disinterest, despite the Quebecée’s interest in acceptance of other unrecognized sects. Her roommate, Cecile, said the true tool was tact and patience. She, however, displayed little of either trait. She was polite it Lanae nonetheless; when they were in private.

Despite the initial dislike of being with one of the Undefined, Cecile developed friendliness towards said roommate. Integration in the over packed dorms generated scorn amongst parents; it spurred enough ridicule to make any compromise difficult. Even the recognized sects had the history of aggressive outlooks to the mere acquaintance with others. It would cause a person’s rank to drop. Depending on the relationships formed, people had been dismissed from offices.

Cecile was not high in her sect, even though she had an easy route to do so. She was comfortable with being average. She liked being average. It was safe, and required no risks. It was a premiere trait and encouraged by her Deacon. She was the perfect citizen of Area II, with one exception. She was rebellious without realizing it by feeling sympathy for Lanae, and verbally expressing it. As Lanae entered the room, Cecile’s eyes caught the reopened wound on the lip.

“Let me get you a bandage,” Cecile said, offering more help than the Deacon had. The girl walked to her desk to unearth a dwindling first-aid kit. Lanae smiled softly, still unused to the basic concern the Quebecee would show her. The smile resulted in a wince when a dimple stretched the torn skin. Both girls remained silent as Cecile checked the gash, covered it, and mentally wished for the healing of Deity. It would be a Heathen act to make such a request aloud. They both knew that, and they knew why. Cecile’s expression announced the desire; Lanae deduced it. The mere gesture touched her. The only other person to talk with Deity for her sake was an uncle, even though he spurned her mother for the heretical lies and the cross-breed she created.

Lanae’s eyes were downcast as Cecile checked for any bruises, both fresh and refurbished ones. A mild scrap was spotted on the cheek bone, and a faint bruise lining the lower jaw. A second sigh was exhaled, this one with relief. The make-shift nurse chose to attempt a light-hearted topic.

“Ever wonder what the food from Area IV tastes like? Some of the kids were talking about it being so fiery it could cause burns.” Lanae grinned and shook her head.

“I did when learning about Area IV; the “Burning Pot” issues. The people were in a constant contest with Milani foods. That food was so popular it cut the others’ profits in half. Area VI then created its own cliché on its cuisine.” She replied with a chuckle. Cecile joined the laugh.

“So bad, it’s good?”

“Something like that.”

The topic change had worked, and the room’s atmosphere eased.

“I think I know why some Madri wished to exclude the native Area II sects.” She began.

“What?” Cecile responded. Her mind quickly tensed.

“The food from there is far worse,” was the reply, followed by another laugh. Cecile again giggled at the innocent joke. It was still a tad extreme, as it gently mocked part of her father’s sect. Lanae did notice the reaction, and was grateful her roommate was not Madri. She had learned from both physical and mental scars to never satirize, even innocently, another’s sect directly.
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Random, incomplete addition to Next Step-- Genocide. I have a few unorganized bits that are slowly evolving into a set timeline.