Generation 1 finale: The Blank Slate

By the time the twins were about to celebrate their birthday we were ready to open The Blank Slate. With Thunderbird and Quince in the lead, we had worked with the opening of the pub parallel with the uprising.

It was nothing special, really. But it was situated outside the district and it was a place were we could welcome colorless and supporters to actually have a relaxed and fun evening. It was located in the town’s outskirts, which was a quite deserted area that felt safe enough. It had to be a secret, of course, and only the most consecrated could be invited.

It was the first of my kids birthday’s that could be properly celebrated and we were all excited beyond words.

Mithos and Quince had worked the entire morning with decorating the pub and the stone walls were covered with streamers and behind the bar hung a big banner with the twins’ names on it. It looked amazing and I was so proud. They were only teenagers and they had already managed to do this.

The hours before the party and the grand opening Quince was nervously checking that everything was in order. He ordered the staff to clean the glasses one additional time and had them practice to mix White Feeling one last time. White Feeling was a juice drink that he and Thunderbird had come up with all be themselves. It would be The Blank Slate’s special drink.

The place was soon filled with our closest friends and their families. Pretty much every member of Whites made their way there, as well as the majority of the inhabitants of District 0.

The mood in the room was uplifting and happy. Everyone had a smile on their face.

It was the perfect birthday celebration and premiere one could ever have hoped for. Berries of all colors danced together and laughed together. This what exactly what the world could be like. I just knew that this place would become one of the greatest sanctuaries ever. It would be a place that looked beyond skin color and ruling politics. It would be a place were every color deserved happiness.

My daughter enjoyed the evening to the fullest, she made sure to constantly be the centre of attention as she swung her hips at the dance floor. “Mom, look at me now! Quincie, come dance with me!”

I looked around and all I could see was happy faces (well, apart from the grumpy lady who insisted on just standing by the edge of the dance floor, not daring to dance because it was childish – but that was her loss really). It was hard to imagine that outside these walls were different rules. It was hard to even think about the fact that this place would be shut down immediately if the government found out about its whereabouts.

It didn’t make any sense.

“What are you thinking of over there?” the bartender raised his voice and shouted to Mithos on the far side of the bar.

Mithos had a drink in his hand and he was looking both proud and a bit nervous at the same time. I knew he was thinking about the same things as I was, that The Blank Slate was already a lovely place. But it was also dangerous for everyone involved.

“Nothing special. Just what a great night this is” Mithos replied and shot off a bright smile. “Why don’t you serve the lady there a drink instead” he added after a while and nodded towards Bluebell who sat between them.

The bartender chuckled and turned towards Bluebell, “And what can I get you?”

“A white feeling, of course” she giggled and her eyes sparkled. She was one of the most precious young girls I knew. I was indescribable happy that she and Quince were still so good friends.

As the bartender got started on Bluebell’s drink, Quince joined her at the bar and smiled widely towards her. “Having a good time?” he wondered.

“This is amazing!” Bluebell exclaimed with enthusiasm. “I can’t believe you have done all this! My best friend Quincie, owning a bar. Can you believe it yourself?!”

“Dunno. It’s quite cool, I suppose. You have to promise to come here regularly. I count on you, you know?”

“I couldn’t keep away even if I tried” Bluebell replied and went over to wrap her arms around my son. “I’m so proud of you” she whispered and gave him a quick peck on the cheek which made him blush.

Bluebell then went back to her seat at the bar to wait for her drink. Quince kept staring after her, smiling widely.

“Cheers!” he shouted once Bluebell had gotten her drink and they slammed their glasses together and took a sip each.

“Come, let’s dance!” Quince pulled Bluebell with him to the dance floor and started swinging his hips back and forth to a fault. Bluebell laughed loudly and started dancing with him.

They were sweet together and the memory of me and Pixie joking about the two of them falling in love many years ago, suddenly came back to me. I couldn’t help but giggle, it seemed like it wasn’t that far away. It was certainly a possibility.

Eventually, Sweet Corn demanded to get to blow her candles and as she and Sundance did everyone cheered and sang for them.

Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday dear Twist twins
Happy Birthday to you

Sweet Corn enjoyed the attention and did a dramatic pirouette in front of everyone and ended by bowing low before her audience.

“Now I want to dance!” she shouted out after rapidly finishing a slice of the birthday cake. “Come on Sunny, it’s your day too!”

Sundance complained at first but eventually he let himself get dragged to the dance floor. It turned out that he was quite the dancer, even though he had never really tried before. At least not that we knew of. He kept true to himself by moving to a corner of the dance floor, trying to keep to himself even though he was one of the main attractions of the evening.

As the night went on Sundance seemed to gain more and more confidence and moved further and further out on the dance floor. About an hour after his first step on the black -painted floor he was standing in the centre of it with a content and thrilled smile on his lips.

“That’s right Sunny. Swing those hips!” Quince laughed and took Sundance’s hands to turn him around in a pirouette. The two of them broke out in laughter shortly after and it was contagious. The mood in the room lifted at the sight of the two boys joy.

Affair gathered enough courage to dance up towards Sweet Corn and take her hands as well. She happily agreed and just as she did Affair imitated Quince’s move with Sundance and turned her around in a pirouette. An even wider smile broke loose in her face and as she watched the young purple guy in front of her, I couldn’t help but think that there was some extra spark in her eyes.

After the jokingly pirouette, the two of them were practically glued together for the rest of the night.

It was way past midnight when the guests started to drop off and Quince, Mithos and Thunderbird could start cleaning things up behind the bar. We stuck around for support and Bluebell made sure Sundance never got to sit down. After Sweet Corn gave in for aching feet, Sundance and Bluebell were the last couple on the dance floor. They danced and laughed for another hour until it was time to go home.

All in all, the birthday party and the premiere had been everything we had hoped for. In fact, it had been more than we hoped for. The Blank Slate was exactly the new page our life story needed.

Chapter 1.11: District 0

I looked out through my window and saw the grey concrete world I had come to be used to. Not happy or comfortable with, just used to. There wasn’t a single feeling of positive vibes of it. It was where we lived, but it didn’t feel like home. In truth, it felt more like the prison it was.

It was exactly five years since the day they brought us here. My kids had spent their entire childhood surrounded by high concrete walls that secluded us from the rest of Fondant Fields. Within District 0 everything was colorless, even the berries. I knew it was colorful on the outside and I would never forget about the town that was real home, even though it had kicked me out its door.

The anniversaries was always the hardest days. I missed Fondant Fields. I missed my colorful friends. I missed my job.

I woke up several times during the anniversary nights, always drenched in sweat and tears. Always the same dream:

I’m sleeping peacefully in my own bedroom, next to my big love Drover.

My children are laying in their cribs in the adjacent rooms, having fallen asleep many hours ago.

The sound of wood breaking as my front door gets kicked in suddenly wakes me up. A deep, angry voice, “We’re here to get you, vanilla freaks” sends shivers through my body.

Both me and Drover hurries out of bed to find our children in the arm’s of strangers in uniforms. Them. The antagonists.

They beat us up and tie our hands behind our backs and pushes us out of our home, in to a car and drives off.

I open my eyes and see the high concrete walls, realizing there is no way to get out of here since the gates are locked with sturdy locks.

This is were I wake up. The dream is an exact projection of the last minutes of our old life. And the place I was taken to, is where I now live and have lived for the past five years. It’s a prison, a ghetto. It’s their way of getting rid of us and making sure we won’t mix our colorless genes with the “real berries”. District 0.

Maybe we should have seen it coming. Mayor Bloom openly and officially built the ghetto to house berries ill in epidemics during his first election period (as far as I know, there was never any epidemic). He also fueled the grudge against colorless in all ways he could think of. And he was mighty successful.

I didn’t see it back then because I was too busy worrying about the colorless children I had given birth to. And Flax did what he could, but bringing Sundance to the live broadcasted TV show backfired. When our neighbours found out that Sundance was white because his genes had been passed on he was immediately classified as a freak, along with his mother – me.

After that, all we could do was to fight as best as we could, even though it felt like we had our hands tied to our backs.

When Mayor Bloom was re-elected the real terror begun. First, I lost my job. Then Drover lost his because he sympathized with me. I suppose several minor steps was taken to finally come to the point where we were waken up in the middle of the night and forced to move inside the concrete walls.

I can’t believe it’s been five years already. The kids go to school during the days and even though their education is beneath contempt, I’m glad they get to leave the house and just be with people of their own age. Drover works within the district, his nursing skills is high in demand and he trades his services for food and books. I have not much use of my work experiences but I help where I can.

We are allowed to go freely outside the walls, as long as we are back before they lock the gates at 9pm. Curfew, can you believe it? The worst part is that Fondant Fields seems happy with this solution. They are finally free of the colorless plague.

“Mooom, we are home!” Quince opens our front door and rushes in to tackle me with a hug. I suppose the love and bonds within our family are one of the few positive things about this whole, stupid situation. We wouldn’t survive this if we didn’t stand up for each other, so we did.

“How was school?” I asked, trying to sound happy and interested. I wanted them to think they had a decent childhood, even if I also made sure to let them know they deserved better than this.

“Same as always” they all replied in unison.

“Can we go outside the district today?” Quince asked. I often wondered if he remembered anything from before we moved here or if it was just a matter of jealousy for the life Bluebell could live. Pixie and Bluebell still lived on the outside and that little girl had a much better life than my kids. No wonder my son was jealous, really.

We went to the park, where we met up with Pixie and Bluebell. While it was lovely to come outside, it also hurt to think of all the things we missed. Pixie had the same troublesome, sad look in her eyes that she had sported ever since my family were transferred to District 0. “How are you?” she wondered and hugged me tight. I shrugged, it was as it was.

The kids ran off to play and me and Pixie sat down on a bench in the park. Some people took detours around me and the kids in fear of being polluted with some strange diseases they imagined lived within our bodies. It all hurt so much.

“I walked by your house yesterday” Pixie said and I could see tears forming in her eyes. “It’s still empty and dusty and no one has even bothered putting the furniture back in place. It’s a mess!”

I teared up by the thought of my lovely little home left as it was when we were forced away from it. We still had clothes in the wardrobes and there was probably still food rotting in the fridge. It was surrealistic in a way.

“Oh sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I just… I don’t know. This is so stupid!”

“It’ll change eventually. It won’t be forever.” I said it more to comfort myself than Pixie. I had to believe it would change or there was no way I would be able to keep fighting.

“Mom, look at me!” Sweet Corn yelled and swung higher and higher on the colorful swing. She was dressed in yellow. We did what colorless berries had done in all time, we dressed her up in color to try and hide the truth. Didn’t matter much where we lived, but it still felt a bit better. She was still happy, always so satisfied with life and everything. She seemed so fragile and I dreaded the day she would break.

“Be careful Sweets!” Quince called out after her before I had time to say anything. He was such a good big brother, always looking after his siblings and making sure they were alright. I think it was because he was colorful and they were not. He had proudly stated three years ago that no one was ever going to harm them if he was around. Until this day, he had lived by that word.

Sundance was watching the others play from a distance. I knew he looked up to his elder brother and he was never as happy as when they allowed him to join their games. Just watching kept him happy, though. He was more the quiet kind. Probably the one of my kids I should really be worrying about because he didn’t seem to have the confidence that Quince and Sweet Corn had. At least he had that yellow hair to keep him somewhat safe, though.

“Look, this is what it could be” Pixie complained and threw her hands out in front of her. I nodded silently.

“Mom?” Sundance was suddenly standing right in front of me.

“Mhm?”

“What time is it. It’s getting dark…” He pointed towards the sky and I looked at my watch only to see that we had about fifteen minutes to get back home. I didn’t even dare to think about what would happen if we missed it. My father didn’t need any new neighbours anytime soon.

“Kids, we better run!” I shouted and they all understood at once and started running with me. We had to get back home in time.

“I was starting to worry for you” Drover said as we reached our barrack. He kissed me and gave each of the kids a hug each. It was very, very important for us to stick together as a real family in these times.

Chapter 1.9: Maybe he’s born with it?

As a matter of fact, it turned out that all my worries had been for nothing. Quince Twist was born with a lovely yellow skin tone. Every time I laid my eyes on him, I was filled with a feeling so warm and so soft that it should have been illegal to even feel that way. And the sounds he could make, you should have heard them! He was a truly amazing and perfect little berry.

If I had thought little Bluebell smelled good, it was nothing compared to what I felt when I sniffed my own baby boy. I got some time off work for maternity leave and I could spend every hour of the first days in his room, just watching him sleep. The soft rising of his chest as he breathed made me calm and relaxed. His yellow skin added to the feeling.

“Maybe they were right all this time” I said to him and he gurgled as though he had understood. “Maybe white can’t transfer, after all.”

I can’t describe how grateful I was that he didn’t have a single little trace of white genes. It meant I didn’t have to worry about him being bullied or secluded from society. It meant that our loss in the election didn’t strike as hard as it could have. At least my baby, my son, wouldn’t have to endour the humiliating aspects of being born the wrong color.

Me and Quince spent a lot of time together with Pixie and Bluebell. We had celebrated Bluebell’s first birthday just some months before Quince was born and she was an adorable little toddler. I still loved her to bits.

“Bluebell, this is Quince” I said and stood in front of the portable crib we had left at Pixie’s place. “He’ll be like a brother to you. And you’re gonna be the best friends ever.”

“Daa, yaaa” she answered in her baby talk. I understood that it meant Yes, that she wanted to be friends with Quince.

“Friends?” Pixie laughed. “They’re gonna be lovers!”

We exploded in laughter because the pure thought of our babies falling in love was so heart warming and desired that we didn’t even dare to wish for it. As long as they were friends, it would be more than enough. Not that we thought they would be able to avoid it, since we were pretty much constantly hanging out.

When we were getting close to celebrate Quince’s first birthday I had been starting to throw up again. Whoever said that white berries wasn’t able to even get pregnant clearly talked wihout any knowledge whatsoever. Drover barely even had to look at me without knocking me up, it seemed.

“Honey, are you alright?” Drover stood outside the door, which I had slammed shut when I felt the contents of my gut were on their way up. There was just some things he didn’t need to see. He sounded worried, even though I guessed he must have realized what it was all about.

“This is the last time I’ll let you make me go through this!” I called out between the vomiting. This time around, I wasn’t worried. Not that it helped me get through, it only made the vomiting part so much worse because there wasn’t any cloud of worry to cover the feeling of stomach acid stinging in my throat.

I didn’t shine in my pregnancy. I was a living wreck. Constantly throwing up and not getting enough sleep because Quince always decided he was hungry just as I had fallen asleep, meaning I had to get back up to feed him. It was a fair deal since Drover was working, but some days I had trouble seeing the fair part.

“We’re going to need to build another room” Drover said the day before Quince’s birthday and nodded towards my growing belly. He was right, we didn’t have enough room as it was, unless I gave up my home gym — which I refused to do. The problem was that we couldn’t afford it. I hadn’t been working at all for the last year because of Quince and Drover wasn’t exactly well payed as a nurse.

“It’s impossible” I stated and Drover nodded in agreement. It would most definately be tough but I just knew that somehow we would make it work.

When Quince aged up we both nearly died of surprise. The little guy in front of us was looking happily at us with blue eyes and his hair was shining in a bright red color. There was no trace of white in him, but it seemed as my dad’s genes had been passed on to him. My hormones made me cry. My beloved father was living on in the shape of a perfect, healthy little boy. I was so happy!

I brought Quince with me to visit my father the very next day. “Look dad” I said happy. “He looks so much like you. I’m sorry I haven’t visited you in a while, but I’ve been so busy, you know? First with Whites and everything and then this little fella came in to my life. And we’re expecting again.”

I smiled and I felt happy. I had nearly forgotten how much I enjoyed coming here to talk to my dad. I promised myself I would visit more often from now. Quince began to gurgle, as if he was also trying to talk to daddy. I waited until he was silent again until I myself continued. “His name is Quince. I promise to tell him everything about you.”

Drover was, no surprise, the perfect father. He would hurry home from work and spend as much time as he possibly could with Quince before we had to put him to bed. Their favourite activity was reading. It even seemed as though Quince picked up a bit of talking that way. Sometimes he would point at one of the pictures in the book and look up at Drover just to try and say the right word.

“Eeeep?” he said and looked at Drover, who nodded encouraging. “That’s right, it’s a mouse!” Don’t ask me how he could understand the fairly weak tries of speach, but he did. Everytime Quince heard the word Yes after trying something he lit up in a happy face and started clapping his hands. I just loved watching them.

What surprised me the most about Quince, was that he seemed to take on the standing norms and values of our berry world all natural. He would dive in to his toy box, rummage around for a while and then happily come toddling to me with a yellow and red toy in his hand. Never any other color. I wondered what caused it, why my son just wanted to play with toys in his own color. Maybe we were born with it?

I took it up with Pixie one day and she just laughed at me. “Nah, it’s just a coincidence that he likes that truck” she insured. “Bluebell plays with toys of all color!”

“Then, what if my son grows up to be like them? What if he will also reject colorless sims?”

“You’re crazy. He won’t, he as the most perfect mother he could ever dream of. And she happens to be colorless. He just likes that toy, it has nothing to with its color” she promised and I did feel a bit less worried afterwards.

Pixie worked as my personal midwife, since I wasn’t allowed at the public hospitals since I was white (We weren’t supposed to breed!) and she did checkups on me regularly. I don’t know exactly how it worked, but she placed her hands on my belly and pushed and felt. She listened in a stetoscope for heartbeats to make sure they were regular. “Here’s a foot” she said and I nodded, “Ye, I felt that kick. It kicks a lot, this one!” I stated.

“Uhm Mallow…” Pixie started and by the sound of her voice I could tell she didn’t have good news. I looked at her with worry. “Either this baby has four feet, or you’re having twins…”

“Twins?!” Just great! We could barely afford raising two kids and now we were having three. Just great…

AN: I just want to add that I did not change any of Quince’s genetics. He aged up as a bald toddler and when I went in to CAS to give him some hair I was mighty surprised to see it red. It comes from Mallow’s father, Apple. It was a really pleasant surprise. 😀

Chapter 1.7: The election

It was an early morning when my phone buzzed and vibrated to life. The name Laser Lemon on the screen told me I was about to get some news on my best friend’s pregnancy. I hurried to answer, not yet knowing whether I should expect happy or sad news. I braced myself, “Hey Laser, ‘sup?” His tone immediately made me relax, it was a proud, happy Laser Lemon on the other end of the line.

“A girl, really?” I smiled widely at the news. Apparantly, Pixie had delivered a healthy, blue-skinned little angel just the other night and they now invited me over, to be the first one to meet her outside of the family. It was a big honor to me.

“Didn’t I tell you so?” I said and carefully lifted the little miracle up. She was the most precious little berry I had ever seen. She looked at me with her big eyes and flapped her long eye lashes and I felt how my heart basically melted. “Oh, Marshmallow will spoil you rotten, little miracle” I said and placed a light finger on her tiny, perfect nose.

I had heard how the smell of infants were special and magical, but I had never felt it myself. Until now. I couldn’t stop sniffing her or looking at her. When her little tiny hand reached for one of my fingers I thought my face would crack from the wide smile I formed.

I sighed happily and handed her over to the proud mother in front of me, my best friend Pixie. “She’s perfect Pixie!” I stated and Pixie stretched her back and hugged her baby tight. “I know she’s amazing” she sighed content. “I can’t believe I’m a mother, but then again it feels like she’s been her forever and I would never cope a day without her.”

“What are you going to call her?” I wondered.

“I let Laser decide” she begun. “And he says she’s a Bluebell. Isn’t that the most perfect name ever?”

“It feels as though I was born to be a mother” Pixie said later as she was feeding little Bluebell.

“Maybe you were?” I replied, still having trouble to stop looking at the miracle in her arms. “I can’t really see myself as a mother, though.”

“What?! You would be a fantastic mother!” Pixie protested. “But now, you have to fill me in on what’s happening between you and Drover! It feels like I’ve missed a decade in your lives!”

I chuckled, she was right. With how sudden our relation had changed, she had indeed missed a lot! “Well, you know he moved in with me, right?” Pixie nodded and I continued, “I suppose it was meant to happen eventually. I mean, we were constantly hanging out. And I think I tried to suppress my feelings because you know, I’m white and he’s yellow and I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Yada, yada, you know? I mean, why would someone with color want to stand being with a colorless when things are as they are? But then, he isn’t like everyone else and when he asked me if he could move in I kind of went with it and kissed him.”

I continued by telling her how we had continued kissing and how good it felt. I even went in to some details that I won’t share here, but let’s just say, she knew very well were I and Drover was standing when we were done.

“Little Bluebell, I have to go to work now. But make sure you take care of your momma here alright? You’re a lucky girl to have such a mother” I cooed just before I left. It was hard leaving them. I just loved Pixie so much and Bluebell was a true joy to be around.

I could tell I would soon be back, possibly bringing Drover with me.

I still loved my job, but some days it was tough to drag myself there. Days like this, when a little blue-skinned perfect girl was left behind in my best friends’ house, for example. But in the end, someone had to make sure this town was safe from fires, right?

On a completely different note, Flax had celebrated his 18th birthday a couple of days ago and he was looking mighty good as an adult. With his charismatic skills I just knew he would be able to snare both one and two girls. He always had a smile on his face, even though the election coming up in a few weeks stressed him out.

“What if no-one votes for me?!” he freaked when he came to visit and I always calmed him down with saying he would at least get one vote, from me. And I usually added that I was fairly certain Drover would vote for him as well. This did usually calm him down a bit, ’cause even if he really wanted to be elected, he would at least manage to stay afloat if he at least got a couple of votes.

“You know, we actually do have a chance” he said a while later and I couldn’t help but smile. His mood changed as a rollercoaster nowadays.

“I know, last measurement showed us having quite a good chance” I agreed, referring to the measurement where Whites had placed at a much approved second place. We knew they were never certain these measurements, but that only fed our hopes. If we could place second in a measurement we were actually able to win!

“You know, I never would have done this if it weren’t for you” he suddenly said and smiled. “You are awesome, Marshmallow. Don’t you ever let someone tell you different.” I blushed because it wasn’t exactly everyday business to me to get such compliments. In fact, it hadn’t been that long since I got my first compliment outside of family. Life had definitely changed quite quickly for me.

The day of the election we gathered a whole group of Whites at my place to watch the counting of votes. It was a joyful, exciting evening and we watched the diagrammes change on my tv-screen slowly as more and more votes were counted.

As the bars changed, so did our moods. It would have been fun to watch from the outside. Happy faces – Sad faces – Happy Faces – Sad faces.

At first, it seemed as though it would be an even fight between Whites and Mayor Bloom, but as time passed by it got more and more clear to us that we weren’t going to win. You could feel how the tension in my livingroom made the air vibrate. Nobody said anything but we probably all had the same thought in mind: We failed.

Pomelo was the first to speak, “Oh well, there’s always another chance in two years, right?” That was the straw that broke the camel’s back and Flax jumped up, demanding to get Pomelo out of his sight. The disappointment laid like a shell all around him but it was the most clear in his eyes, which was tearing up.

Pomelo didn’t need to be told twice and was out of my house faster than you could have said Marshmallow Puff. I myself, tried my best to comfort Flax while the other members of Whites also started to make their leave. Soon, it was only me, Flax and Drover left. Being fairly alone calmed Flax down and eventually, he was calm enough to sit down again. I knew better than to try anything of the kind Pomelo had, as it would only put even more light on the fact that we didn’t win.

“Can I sleep on your couch tonight” Flax asked several hours later, after having cried, screamed and sat in silence. “I just don’t want to go out at all tonight.” I looked towards the bedroom door, where Drover had gone to sleep about an hour ago, before I nodded in response. That’s what friends do, stick up for each other.

“Thanks love” Flax said and gave me a peck on the cheek. After that he fell asleep almost instantly and I remained seated in the livingroom just watching him sleep for a while. Little Flax, all grown up.

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