View character profile for: Papillon Poppy DuMont
View character profile for: Anges Dumont
View character profile for: James Lombard
January 1, 2184 EC // 7.3.6 SW
13:06/21 SW-CP-Local Time
Crowning Point > Residential Hex > DuMont Residence
“Nouveaux arrivants,” muttered Anges DuMont to himself. He was peering out the window from his dining room in the Residential Hex trying to get a better view of the APC that was headed toward the town from the airfield with possible newcomers.
“Livraison de fret peut-être?” responded his wife Anais somewhat absently as she sipped her afternoon espresso and read from a PDAT.
“Peut-être." He agreed as he looked out to the mountains to the east. "It’s a good weekend to go out to the woods.” he said in English.
“Non! To the beach… Or the park? I've seen enough trees. Besides, it is Saturday.”
Their daughter, Papillon stomped into the kitchen, glumly opening the steel refrigerator door and spelunking for a late lunch or snack.
“Mmm, voici ma fille,” she said sweetly with the cup to her lips.
“Ugh, he’s ghosting me or something, Mama.”
“Huh? Who is ‘ghosting’ you?” asked Anges, turning from the window, unbeknownst to Papillon.
“No one.” she immediately tried to take it back.
“It is that Lombard boy again, unh? James.” He asked in his thick French accent. “You know I don’t like you with this... boy. He is one of those corpos’ sons. It will only bring us trouble, mon couer.”
“I’m 18 now, Papa. I’ll date who I want. And don’t call them corpos, it’s rude.”
“I cannot afford to lose my job, you know?” he said as he returned his gaze to the outside.
He saw the manta-looking Kite Rays, skimming the coast in the bright morning.
"Ha, the beach." he chuckled to himself.
“It’s not my fault you moved us to a planet where you can only work hard labor.” Papillon replied harshly.
“Poppy!” her mother scolded.
Anges turned to his daughter concerned and somewhat smitten.
“Oui, I did. For a better life. Sometimes people don’t have a choice, unh? It is hard work for US but look! Look outside at what we have earned!" he said with pride and passion. "I take less pay for the opportunity for us to live in a place where there is no... no war, the sky is not... full of dirt and poison, and we can have our own piece of land someday.”
“Anges, s'il te plaît.” his wife tried.
“And what choice do I have?”
“Poppy, arrête.” Anais tried again.
“Oh!" he growled, frustrated now. "You don’t see it?! Ugh, cette fille. Elle n'écoute jamais.”
“Just... How do you expect me to have a life? Am I just supposed to be single and work my life away in some mine or lumber mill like you two? James is one of the only boys my age and all the others already have girlfriends,” she cried. “And I love him.”
They all shared a brief moment of awkward silence as Anges gave it some consideration as he shared looks with his wife.
“Yeah? You just be careful, ok Poppy?” Anges finally said.
With a pouty and frustrated look she marched out of the room.
Anges sighed as he walked over to his cup and lifted it. “Pssh. Bonne Année, unh?”