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MSNPC Welne: Changes

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((Lakonna City, Welne residence)) Sitting at his desk, in the library, Welne looked outside to the rain drops falling in the window. He usually didn’t have any trouble writing. He loved pouring his imagination into words on the white sheet of paper. Today he couldn't. He was fighting to put his notes into a proper text, every time he tried Welne ended up caught in thousands thoughts, all connected, all related. How much have things changed. How fast. Welne scrolled through his notes about the recent attack on the dressing factory. He always tried to convey the news evenly, honestly, without taking sides. This time he found it difficult. The shop was burned down. The owner was in tears as the building became a pile of black ash. Almost by divine intervention, and the hard work of the Constabulary and neighbours, the fire didn't spread. From what Welne found out the fire was started by one of the protesters. The other side of this malevolos event. The reason for that? Machinery. A machine the size of his dinner table. Actually several. Mister Faiate, the owner of the place, invested in the recently invented sewing machine. It still required eight to ten workers to operate each machine, but with the cheap work force that was sweeping Lakonna, he managed to replace most of his former workers, cut on wages, and increased his work rate. Now, in one week work, they could produce suits, pants,  shirts, coats, that would take them months to finish. Until today. Former workers went to protest outside the factory, tempers ran high and when the Constabulary force tried to disperse them it only made things worse. There was no official report, but Welne knew at least seven protesters were killed. Seven lives were wasted, as was Mr. Faiate’s. Although he was the owner, one of the Privileged, he had invested everything there, and now he lost it all. And wasn’t it ironic, how when he fired most of his Labourers he had made them lose their substance. Another battle between classes. That was what was troubling him, how could he be impartial and just report this. His thoughts were pushed away from the knock on the door. Without asking permission Woira entered the library. Woira: Abuz it’s dinner time. Welne smiled at her, as she made her way to him. She was growing into a beautiful Demesian, looking like his late wife Moira. But her eyes were his, as was the sharp mind she had been blessed with. She stopped near him and looked at the empty page, resting a hand on his shoulder as she gave him a gentle squeeze. Woira: I remember you and Akrayzy calling me for dinner. Now is it the other way around? Welne smiled affectionately at her. The shortened names they all shared around the house made him forget the troubles outside. Yet it was also a reminder of how time was passing. Welne: How things change my oldest Bitty. Woira jumped on his desk, something she always loved to do when she was younger. But now they weren't at the same eye level, being almost as tall as him, Welne needed to lock up from his seat. Woira: Perhaps. If they didn’t I would still be small. You want to know what I think Abuz? Welne nodded, curious as to what she was about to say. Welne: Of course, I always encouraged all of you to speak freely. Tilting her head Woira held his hand, now almost the same size, although her’s was much prettier. And it didn’t have any calluses from writing. Woira: I think some things have to change, so they can grow. But although different, the important things remain the same. With a wide smile she pulled herself out of the desk with a jump. For a second, for Welne, she was not fifteen anymore, she was back being his seven year old Bitty. Straightening herself she raised her hand. Woira: Does it make sense? Welne nodded, took her hand and stood. Welne: Very much. I think I understand what you mean. Now let us have dinner. Maybe that was it. Still, caught in a family moment Welne tried to push aside the thought that clouded him. oO Change brings growth. But at what cost? Oo TBC MSNPC Welne Journalist Lakonna Gazette as simmed by Lt. J. G. Vitor S.Silveira Tactical Officer USS Excalibur-A, NCC-41903-A O238907VS0

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