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Receptions and Riots: The Ongurth Wedding Livestream
Shadda’Shk & The Winged Scribe
It was supposed to be THE highlight—a celebration to be remembered for years to come. Not since the wedding of Beren and Luthien had an event merited such fanfare. From East and West they had gathered in front of the screen, some pulling themselves out of warm beds at hours far too early while others staggered to the chair grasping a cup of tea and a box of tissues.
What had prompted such a gathering? Why, the streaming of Ongurth’s wedding! It was a wonderful beginning: there were prayers, praises, singing, and laughter that never seemed to stop. The entire crowd watched it all in great spirits.
Until the unthinkable happened. In one fraction of a second, the scene changed from one of an outpouring of love into one of inconceivable disbelief.
…Actually, the scene on the monitor hadn’t changed at all. On screen, everything was exactly the same, save for one small circle of animation in the center of the screen, spinning endlessly in a maddening display of futility and vain hope.
The power had cut out. In the middle of the wedding.
The Community had never known such a riot that rose so quickly and with such fury. This reporter was able to make it into the room and interview several attendants willing to talk about their ire.
“I mean, how could they?” demanded a man waving a large quilled pen at one of the sitting attendants. “Don’t they know that she is sick and still made the effort to come?”
“Hey,” coughed the lady wearing a black shirt with a blue lightning bolt on it, “go find your own excuse for rioting.”
“A BOUNTY!” someone dressed in red and black screamed at the top of their lungs, waving two fists full of bank notes. “A BOUNTY ON HIS ELITE SHIP!”
Cheers were raised in agreement and it wasn’t long before a coupon for a free paint job on a ship was added to the pile. The man with the quilled pen looked at the pile and shook his head.
“Did we just put a bounty hit on the man that just got married?”
“But… that’s terrible!” the reporter couldn’t help exclaiming.
“Of course we’re terrible.” black and blue shirt hacked. She paused and cleared her throat. “We’re his friends. It’s what best friends do.”
“Yeah,” agreed another lady in orange and red outfit as she started to pass out “WANTED” posters.
“But now we’re the best hitmen. This is what you get for sabotaging your own wedding’s livestream.”
Eventually, the crowd’s initial fervor receded to a simmer, though their determination to act had not. “WANTED” posters in hands, they slowly began to disperse, each in eager anticipation of the time when they would see their plans come to fruition.
By the time this reporter had left, the bounty for the destruction of Ongurth’s Elite: Dangerous ship was at the 1,000,000 credit mark.
And the transformation from a group of well-wishers into an organization more closely resembling a cartel was complete.
And, in the immortal words of another famous reporter: “Well, that escalated quickly.”
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