Chapter Text
The Tragedy of Mount Ebott.
If you lived in the city that followed the path trickling through the forest, you knew the story: a group of elementary school children went on a field trip to learn the rich history of the only real thing Ebott had to its name. Of course, that meant taking a bus ride to the very tippy-top of the mountain with the understanding that no child would be left unattended.
Until one was.
An eight-year-old who infamously fell into the mouth of the mountain after being neglected for a few minutes too long. Nobody had heard them scream or seen them fall, so they’d been missing for four hours before anyone noticed that they were gone. The authorities were called immediately, of course, and it was the biggest news story the town had seen since someone claimed they’d seen a mildly known celebrity in the grocery store. Reporters swarmed the scene, trying to get a word out of the busy cops who had yet to find anything that indicated the missing child was even alive. Ultimately, they came up with nothing. All of the chaperones were charged with child neglect and had to pay out-of-pocket for emotional distress. Divorces and custody battles were swift, with very little argument about who got to keep the children in their care and who would never be allowed to be responsible for a child’s safety again. A once unrecognizable face had now become the cautionary tale of both who to trust with your child’s safety and the reason nobody went up to Mount Ebott anymore.
The story spread like wildfire, people online screaming their opinions about the entire situation, desired or not. Blaming the parents. Blaming the other kids. Blaming the child themself. Blaming anyone.
Invidia “Envy” Tirabassi was a name that less people knew. A twenty-five year old dojo instructor who had been just as shocked by the news as the next person, but ultimately unaffected by it. Children rushing up to Mount Ebott and falling into the gaping hole at the top wasn’t anything new, according to some newly discovered documents that the county had apparently been sweeping under the rug. Now it was a whole thing. The Ebott Facebook group was demanding a mayoral impeachment or some kind of re-election. People were egging the mayor’s house and writing nasty things on the office building. The local news even let the high school theater club do a satire sketch about the whole situation, which Envy hopes doesn’t happen again. She’s pretty sure the news station is getting sued for emotional damages.
Are they? She wonders to herself, pulling open the blinds to her dojo. It’s a cloudy day, so she isn’t blinded by sunlight. Good for her vision, but bad for the overall atmosphere of the place. And business, but that didn’t really matter to her if she was being honest. In principle, that is. She did need to pay rent and feed herself.
Envy was… content with her job. With all of the restaurants and clothing stores in Ebott, she had to get creative in how she was going to make money. But she needed to stay in town and also had to adhere to her skill set. So, she ended up opening the dojo. Being the only place to learn how to fight in Ebott, she actually did pretty well for herself.
The only problem was, she didn’t have any other coworkers.
Envy could use some coworkers. Yes, she was fine handling the dojo by herself (despite the concerns of her clients), but a little extra help never hurt anyone. The only problem was, nobody in this town knew how to fight. It was fine to want to learn, but it was irritating that every applicant only had a few years of ‘experience’ and couldn’t name anything that wasn’t an incredibly basic move. So she just didn’t have any expectations whenever someone walked in the door asking for a job. Almost everyone who applied ended up becoming a client, anyway.
… Speaking of which, it was past opening. Why wasn’t anyone here yet?
Envy opens her phone. Maybe she’d missed a mass group text explaining their absence, or she’d come in too early again. Or maybe (and she’s annoyed thinking about this) she had forgotten that she was holding the morning class elsewhere again.
But she hasn’t gotten a single text from any of her clients. It’s March twelfth, which is no day of significance as far as she’s aware. And there’s no reminders or sent messages saying that the class was going to be somewhere else. Even her email is completely clean, at least in regards to the dojo. There are a few spam messages from the same companies that Envy keeps unsubscribing from. She briefly considers trying again before something catches her eye.
Ebott Evacuation Warning: Emergency Evacuation Protocol… - Beloved resident of Ebott, this is not a drill. We need you to…
An evacuation warning? She clicks on the email.
Ebott Evacuation Warning: Emergency Evacuation Protocol Effective IMMEDIATELY.
Beloved resident of Ebott, this is not a drill. We need you to leave town as soon as humanly possible. There has been a disruption at the top of Mount Ebott that could potentially put all of us in danger. The government is currently investigating and will get back to us with information as soon as they can. We will let citizens back into the town as soon as we receive the all clear. Your safety is of the utmost importance to us, so DO NOT return until permission is granted.
Regards,
Trinity Banks, Mayor of Ebott City
Envy scrolls to see if any other emails were sent. Nothing. As surprised as she is that she didn’t catch the email, this was also sent at about three AM in the morning. Still, something like this shouldn’t have slipped through the cracks, right?
Either way, it looks like the town did evacuate, sans Envy. So no clients today. She sighs and pockets her phone, trying not to think about it too much. So she’d opened her shop just to close it ten minutes later? What a pain in the ass. If she had just checked her email, she could have just avoided coming in at all. Or if the situation hadn’t happened, whatever it was.
… Why did the mayor even want the city to evacuate, anyway?