UPDATE 3
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I'm sorry I took so long to update, but job and uni are both kicking my ass, plus this was a pretty long one and I wanted to make sure it was good. Hope you like it!
> Thank everyone for coming. tell them they're the real heros here
You glance upon the crowd, and speak to your fellow hard-shelled people.
"Hello, thank you all for coming. I want to start with a little story that I saw recently on the internet and I think it illustrates my point pretty well. C Street with 8th avenue, carapacian kingdom, the opening of a new supermarket, a dozen or so years ago. Everyone piled up to see it, you know, it's a big new shiny thing, and when they open up the doors they find the floors to be a perfect black and white tiling. Poor little things just did what they were made to do and soon there were people stepping forward one square at a time, some others sprinting through the diagonals and a third group smashing against the walls for going forwards or sideways too fast."
A few of the trolls and humans in the crowd let out some shy chuckles, and you smirk in retribution.
"Thank you for laughing, because no one did, that day. Three severe injuries and a whole bunch of deeply traumatized people who'd probably have to spend a fortune in therapy, because of the checkerboard tiling on a supermarket. Now, checkerboard tiling on public spaces is outlawed on the Carapacian Kingdom because they're mental health hazards, but not anywhere else, even if carapaces --and consorts, I'll give 'em that --are the vast majority of the population. Which brings me to the point of my presentation."
The room went silent, even more than before, somehow, a respectful silence of those who regret what they've said. You smirk again, and change the slide with the pointer in your hands.
"Crazy times those we are, aren't they? Some of you can't be outside after 7 PM, some of you hope you don't get drafted to operate drones, and some of you don't understand what's happening, but don't want to be shot. I understand you, and believe me when I say that I wasn't sure I should even be doing this at the present time, but I came to realize that, if I didn't say anything, nobody would, for as long as I lived, and I couldn't live with that thought.
What I wanna bring forward is the reality of what we, carapacians, face for a long time coming, actually, and I know it's hard for either party to focus on someone else when you're exploding each other out but I really need you to know this; the way carapaces are treated out there is horrendous.
Every day I see people being treated as inferior, beastialized, as funny little monsters, by humans and trolls alike. Grown adults being patronized and talked down to, made into pets so others can pamper them with treats and clothes and put them in confusing situations to see how they react. Just because most of us don't speak up, because we're wired differently and we're physically different, and we have different needs.
Sounds like I'm complaining with a full stomach, doesn't it, look at this person, thinkin' being treated like a little lap dog is bad business, but I mean it. It's humiliating, honestly. That is, if you're small and cute. For those carapaces that don't have such luck, well..."
You pause, your thumb rolling over the next slide button.
"The following images aren't for the faint of heart."
When you press it, you show a few stills of the rook fight you recorded last night. The audience is deeply uncomfortable. Most of the carapaces glance away, cover their mouths, with the most pained of looks on their eyes that make you think that perhaps putting that on the presentation wasn't the best idea. Some of the humans and trolls, the squishy-skinned, show no change in expression, just merely engaged with the speech.
"That there is a rook fighting ring in the basement of a bar on the outskirts of the Troll Kingdom. It's... Such a cruel display I couldn't hang around for too long. I felt like I was in danger every second I spent on that place even if I wasn't showing my face, or my shell. I didn't mean to bum you out, but I needed to prove a point, and if that's not enough for you, I present you this."
You move on from the grotesque images onto some boring headlines and graphs.
"The biological reproduction of carapacians has been outlawed for ages, I'm not sure if the squishy-skinned know this -- that's what we call the humans and trolls -- and all reproduction is clone-based. Why, you ask? Well, that's the question every shelled couple out there ask themselves, and for a long time we had a hunch, but we didn't know for sure. Well, that thing where confidential documents are released after a hundred years or some such made the documents of the congressional session that passed this law free to take a peek a few years ago and apparently it's for, quote, 'aesthetical reasons'?"
You take a pause. The silence in the room is one of shame and uncertainty.
"I don't see trolls complaining about that. Well, the reason for this Talk isn't just to call you out and make you feel like miserable, racist little mooks but it is a call to reflect upon what exactly you're doing with yourselves. In the grand scheme, I mean. If you paid attention to your History classes you know, maybe as much as I do, that we carapaces aren't strangers to race war, but once we needed to live and work together, we put most of the differences aside. I do believe there's a way to fix all of this with pacific diplomacy, the same way we did among ourselves, and if we all work together we can achieve a better place for all, and that we, carapacians, deserve better than the way you treat, or I guess mistreat, us, we deserve to be equals.
I needed to speak up, to say that we, too, suffer, and that we too, deserve a chip in the equality deal, because frankly the way you act made me feel that if we didn't say anything, we might never get the same equality the trolls strive for. It remains then for you, and I hope to whomever is watching this on Youtube, to figure out whether this is a message you wanna stand for and pass down to your peers. My name is Weary Spokesperson, and thank you for coming to my TED Talk."
The crowd takes a moment before they realize what they just heard, and erupt first in shy applause, that gets more and more heated as the carapaces raise up and express just how much your speech meant to them. You smile fondly, somewhat proud of yourself, before absconding to the backstage area.
> Wonder about the meaning of our existence and the futility of our actions and how them being here is irrelevant.
You can’t wonder about the meaning of your existence because you’re too busy being the other guy.
> Be the other guy?
You are
JAKE CROCKER and you just saw the most interesting TED Talk in a long while. You were right to sponsor this little fella on their endeavor to find an outlet to their message -- you knew what it was like to be ignored, and frankly if you have to be honest with yourself, if there wasn’t a God name attached to it the pawn would never be able to find a venue for their speech.
You’re happy about the outcome though. You and Spokesperson had bonded once at a bar over not having any agency or direction in life and they opened your eyes to just exactly what’s been hiding under the surface, and since then you’ve grown quite fond of the little white carapace. You’re now dismissing some people who’ve recognized you from the telly and trying to make your way down to meet your little friend.
What will you do then?
