King and Creed - Part 1 'First Cut'
#1 of King and Creed
The not-too-distant future sees the battle between two great empires and the struggling emotions of two of it's victims who must come to terms with how they feel about themselves, eachother and a corrupt political power that seeks to keep them apart. Join Chris, a closeted talkshow host and Chase Creed; a victim of war and manipulation as they embark on a mission to save themselves in a time were love is outlawed and privacy is denied. Eventual adult content.
Authors note - Well, here is the first entry from my first story. I have no idea how this is going to be received or how often I will be updating the story, but if you like what you see or you have some constructive criticism; please let me know! Details about the main characters are available in my 'characters' section via my profile. Happy reading! ^^
Sixteen years had passed since the reintegration of Great Britain's sovereign territories. The new Empire was at the height of its power. To look at the world from a bird's eye view, the devastation was clear. Much of the area surrounding Russia had been scorched after a wave of chemical weaponry was unleashed, although by which side, it was never clear. Since the war had started, much of the world had elected to back sides in what was being called 'The War of Bears and Lions'. France, Germany and Italy (among others) remained loyal to their friendship with Great Britain whereas many of Russia's surrounding countries had merged with the Soviets. Despite the steady pulse of war and battle that was striking Europe, one could stand anywhere in England and remain blissfully unaware of any turmoil happening abroad. The public were not unaware of the conflict; it was simply not something that really concerned the lives of regular citizens of the Empire.
Conscription into the armed forces was decreed early. Any male above the age of eighteen was to enlist. Yet such was the feeling of patriotism among the masses that most who became eligible to join at sixteen, did so without complaint. Yet not all men were eligible to join the armed forces. Some were disqualified on account of their professions, usually those related to medical science or industrial work. Other, wealthier families were offered the choice of buying their way out of conscription. One such example of this was Christopher Carlyle, a fox who had come into some money shortly before the war had started.
While those who were able to buy themselves out did so, there was one imperial epitaph that came with their withdrawal. They must ensure that some of the work that they undertook benefited the army on a regular basis. To this end, most were given a choice of imperial appointments. Some were offered the chance to manage industrial factories; manufacturing food, weapons, uniforms or something similar. Others were simply offered the chance to contribute extra earnings to the Empire or to assist the military in other areas depending on their skillset. Christopher, who had bought his way out of military service, chose to promote the war effort using his talk-show that had been reformatted a couple of years before the war had begun.
Although a gentleman with his own estates and titles, the young fox was famous for his informal manner, dry wit and the grand parties that he would throw at his chateaux in Paris once a year. A socialite, Christopher was held in high regard by most who knew him. There were even rumours circulating amongst the common-folk that he was assisting the Empire in matters of internal security. Many even went so far as to think him a high up member of the secret police. This was a force designed to protect the integrity of the Empire and to ensure the cooperation of enemy prisoners of war. These allegations were batted away by Carlyle who denounced them as "a fanciful notion, but completely unfounded."
Nevertheless, despite Christopher's denials, the rumours served to enhance his public image as a figure of mystery and awe. It helped also that he would regularly talk to celebrity guests on his talk show. Actors, musicians, soldiers, democrats... Anyone who was anyone would eventually end up being interviewed, sometimes repeatedly, on the fox's live imperial broadcast. The show entitled 'The Gloves are Off with Christopher Carlyle' was commonly referred to as _'Foxgloves'_by its viewers. Tonight, the show was set to be taking a closer look at the garb worn by the varying ranks of the Empire. The main guest was a portly male iguana who had been a tailor for the armed forces over the last decade.
'How dreary.' Chris thought as he adjusted his bowtie.
Having been cloistered up in his dressing room for the last hour, Chris was busy going over the points he had penned out about the durability of different types of silk and cotton. Looking himself over in the mirror, Chris questioned how he was able to make true entertainment out of such a dry episode.'Oh well.' He sighed. _'I guess if anyone can do it, it's me.'_Gathering his cards together and rapping them on the side of the counter, Chris stood and conducted one final check in the mirror before departing for the main stage. When he emerged, the cameras were still off. His presence was met with thunderous applause from the live audience. He replied in kind by shaking the paws of everyone seated in the front row, catching eyes with a particularly cute looking female jaguar. As was something of a ritual of his (off camera) Chris had a small rose tucked into one of his cuffs which he withdrew and held out for his feline fan. Although her fur was a deep mixture of golds and blacks, Chris could tell that he had made her blush.
Moving back onto the centre stage, he seated himself in his large and incredibly comfy looking chair. There was a couch to one side of him and a large coffee table filled the gap. There was also a large television screen situated behind the couch. Displayed upon the television screen was the title of the show in gleaming cerulean letters. Chris smiled and waved, knowing that it would be a couple of minutes before the show went on air. One of the technical team was busy giving final instructions to the audience regarding participation while a polar bear barked orders at her camera crew. Chris made a remark about how he would never want to get on the bear's bad-side, which was met with much laughter from the audience. The polar bear tried to make a comeback remark, but with no microphone she was drowned out by the audience. Chris took a sip of the drink that had been laid out, as always. 'Mmm... Is that fruit punch?' he thought. His ears perked. Pleasantly surprised by the slight hint of rum. 'Probably Andrea's doing. She knows this is going to be like pulling teeth.'
"Okay. Strap on your best faces ladies, we are live in five... four... three... two..."
The polar bear, whose name was Francine, mimed the numbers one and zero. This was immediately followed up by the pre-programme jingle that had met Chris' ears every Saturday night for the last decade. He could register the heat of the spotlights pressing against his brown two-piece. He took a deep breath and flashed his handsome grin as usual.
"Good evening! And welcome to 'The Gloves are Off'."
His greeting was met with applause and whistles. Chris stood and motioned for the audience to simmer down before continuing, flashing his debonair smile at camera three.
"You know, I've been in this business now for ten years. Ten years! Wow... And you know, I don't think I've ever seen an audience as ravishing as this one. You all look incredible tonight. In fact, can we get a camera on the audience Francine my sweet?" Chris grinned down at the polar bear who was standing beside camera two. The latter huffed and did as she was told. The crowd screamed in delight, settling a minute or so later.
"Tonight we have a special guest, Lt. John Featherscale, who is here to talk to us about military attire and his career as a tailor for the armed forces. Who knows, he may even have that new pair of silk tights I asked for in my letter last year!"
Chris' humorous remarks were well received by his fans in the audience. Francine, confident that the team were able to handle themselves, excused herself. Exiting the viewing area, she decided to head to the control room where she could monitor the digital feed with ease. Meanwhile, Chris taunted the crowd.
"...You never know, there may be time towards the end for us to model some of John's latest work! We will also be talking with Ellen Hunter who you all know from the controversial hit TV show 'Animal Instinct' and the legendary Fenrir! I will also be calling one or two lucky hopefuls down from the audience to have a chat as always. Anyway, without further ado, please allow me to welcome my first guest of the evening. Lt. John Featherscale!"
Up in the control room, Francine's eyes darted between the monitor feeds of the cameras amidst a team of broadcasting professionals. Realizing that everything was in hand, she elected to laze on one of the couches observing global news via her cell phone. Swiping left to move to the next story, she sighed at the articles of cheating celebrities and a woman in Brazil who thought her cub was the reincarnation of some deity or other. Then, as she rejected an article about how to get rich using online media, Francine's ears pricked up. Amidst the confusion and concern that was now waxing over her eyes, the broad polar bear heard the sound of the commercial jingle.
Down on the stage, Chris loosened his tie for a minute and went backstage with his drink. There was a chair and a book laid out for him. This was something of a tradition that had been adopted some seven years ago. The producer of the show had once discovered that Chris was an avid bookworm. 'What has she got for me this week?' he wondered.
"Hmm, 'The Lathe of Heaven'. Sounds interesting..." he pondered aloud. As he turned the first page and began reading, Francine slowly turned a corner and came to stand beside him. Chris was aware of her and gave her a cheesy smile for his cheekiness earlier. The polar bear, looked somewhat lost in her own world and was initially despondent to him.
_"Chris. Something's happened."_She began. The fox cocked an eyebrow and started to grin, thinking that one of the semi-regular shenanigans had occurred in the control room. He laughed internally at the memory of Daniel, the audio lizard, plugging the wrong jack into the studio's speakers. This had resulted in Careless Whisper sounding as Chris came back on air. A lesser fox would have cut the live stream to correct the issue, but Chris had simply used the mistake to his advantage. He had made no pretence that it was a technical cockup and started to perform a shirtless striptease for the camera. No doubt this was something similar.
Yet as Chris watched Francine, awaiting news of some antic that had befallen the production team, no answer came. That was, until Francine gave a heartfelt sigh and handed her phone over. Initially perplexed, Chris accepted the phone and glanced the title of a new article spread across the screen. 'Imperial Decree No 23. - Update.' Chris' eyes immediately darted back up to Francine's and the two exchanged looks of the gravest nature. Francine mumbled something about the news not being good, but Chris' eyes were back on the screen by this point. He scanned through the article, his look darkening with every scroll.
_ Imperial Decree No 23. - Update. _
After four months of deliberation, the law regarding the treatment and acceptance of non-traditional relationships has been reviewed by his excellence; Emperor Tanis I. Following talks during the ninth Imperial Review Event (IRE9), the Emperor has decreed that henceforth:
"...the Empire of Britannia does not recognise, encourage nor lawfully permit any romantic union that is not of traditional structure. From this point forward, the concept, promotion and/or participation in any non-traditional romantic relationship is against the law and is tantamount to treason. Those found to be promoting, partaking in or encouraging (in any way) the adoption of a non-traditional arrangement (e.g. a homosexual or alternative sexual engagement) will be punished according to Section 224b of the Empirical Penal Code 2037.
_ Those who have previously been the victim of such acts can contact their local doctor, pharmacy or registered religious body for referral to a number of Imperial counselling and re-integration programs." _
Francine could hear the sound of the commercial-end bell. Signifying that the show was now cutting to its secondary portion with Lt. Featherscale. Luckily, the tailor had been given five minutes to do his own thing with a section of the stage. Chris would not be needed until that was over. Besides, the polar bear did not dare to provoke the host after giving him such news.
A few minutes passed and one of the production team, a wolf with a crew uniform and a headset on, came running towards them asking why Chris wasn't in position. This seemed to break the trance-like state that Chris had entered and the fox handed the phone back to Francine. Composing himself and taking another drink to combat how dry his throat was feeling, Chris preceded to adjust his tie and move back towards the stage. Unsure of what she could say, Francine watched as the young fox exited the backstage. As he did, she noted the presence of a single tear streaking down his left cheek.