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Oh land of peaceful insanity Oh land of comrades fair I bring you word of a new change That you’ve noticed in the air
The council that you’ve come to know To tease, to recognize The council whose color has been unknown I come now to reveal
You see, I’m going to tell you the story of how we reached our decision. Well, retell it would be more precise. As a story teller it is my right to change names, and places, to add drama and conflict, to tell a story quite unlike what actually occurred without misrepresenting the facts.
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The council was faced with a weighty and dangerous decision. Six Council members faced their leader uncertainly. The discussion was what color should be used to present them, and no option seemed appropriate. “Can we just get on with it already?” Elrond asked. “There are other, more important, things that require our attention!” Aragorn glanced wearily from Galadriel to Celebrian. Mother and daughter usually stood of one accord, but this time they were set against each other, and the whole council felt the tension. “Perhaps, if Galadriel would explain her views, we might be able to understand her better,” Glorfindel suggested. “Red is not a color I am comfortable using,” Galadriel sighed, feeling she was explaining this for the seven hundredth time. “I do not know if I can explain the whys to you, for none of you seem to feel as I do. As I have said before, if this Council votes against me I will not stand in your way, but I would rather wear the color of a lesser rank than to be seen in red.” “I think I see what you are saying,” Glorfindel said slowly. “I agree with the Lady Galadriel.” “Orange,” Aragorn repeated, “is a fine medium between red and yellow.” “No,” Celebrian said flatly. “No orange.” “But why?” Arwen asked sweetly, trying to placate them both. “What reasons do you have against orange?” “I like orange,” Aragorn repeated. “I have no great love for orange myself,” Galadriel admitted, “But I’d rather be orange than red.” Aragorn turned to Gandalf. “What words do you have to advise us?” he asked. “Whatever color you pick, it’s all the same to me,” he said. “I don’t envy you this problem.” Arwen stood quietly by her father, watching the others uneasily. “I have been told that red is an unacceptable color for Galadriel,” Aragorn said. “And that orange is an unacceptable color for Celebrian. I will not have my council divided over something as petty as this. We will find another color.” “Yellow,” Galadriel said quickly. “We have our rings to distinguish us…” Gandalf was already shaking his head. “Perhaps we do,” he said. “But when they see our banners waving in the distance, how will they tell us apart then?” “The gray pilgrim has a point,” Aragorn said. “No, yellow is not the solution.” “We’re running out of colors,” Arwen said, her brow creasing in worry. “Perhaps we could…” “Perhaps a darker gold,” Aragorn said. “Something that isn’t yellow but isn’t quite orange.” He glared viciously a moment at Celebrien, but laughed in spite of himself. “We’re running out of colors,” he said, suddenly inspired. “When all colors are gone, what remains?” From where he sat in the corner, Gandalf looked up, suddenly interested. Elrond caught on first and a slow smile spread across his stern features. Celebrien and Galadriel caught each other’s gaze and laughed. Aragorn smiled in relief. “So it is decided,” he said with finality, and turned to Elrond. “What other weighty matters did you say must be discussed today?”
***
Now, fair people, you hold the entire story, and all the clues. It is up to you to determine which of the people you see in this story are which Council members you know in real life. Be cautioned, I am subtle, and have woven both personalities into characters of my own. But if you are clever you can determine who said what in the great discussion, and what color was finally chosen.
_________________ Floyd was frozen where he stood. He struggled to breathe, but the air smelled of blood and death and guilt. He tried to formulate a name, to ask, but language was meaningless, and words would not come. He tried to scream but the sound got stuck in his heart, shattered into a million pieces, and scattered to the wind.
In a world without superheroes, who will stand against the forces of evil?
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