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The beginning of winter festival always brought hope and compassion into the hearts of America. Thick snow fluttered down and settled into fluffy carpeting to the outside world. String lights of every color adorned the trimmings of houses, the light poles, and the trees in public parks. 
It was also the time of year where migrant supers could find their place. Those gifted with ice and snow might make beautiful sculptures downtown. Pyrokinetics might help create the great bonfires, making them sway and swirl and crackle with grace and beauty. 
At least, that's what the commercials on television claimed, that this year's winter festival would be more inclusive and merry and joyful than it ever has been in the history of America. Nobody believed that. Winter festival was a time to be exclusive, not inclusive. A time to turn your colored lights off and lock your doors if you lived near supers. It wasn't quite racism, so it wasn't exactly illegal.
A new commercial popped up and in homes across the country, people dialed up the volume, leaning toward the television set with bated breath.
[color=#b3e8ff]“Citizens of the United States and New Alaska!”[/color] bellowed the chubby old woman, a plastered smile on her face. It was Marie Bernard-Tomas, the president of New Alaska. She gave a public announcement every few weeks, usually about the fate of American Supers. No one wanted to miss a word.
[color=#b3e8ff]“I come to you today on the eve of winter festival. November thirtieth. Today is a wonderful day, but also a turn of history.”[/color] She glanced down at a podium. [color=#b3e8ff]“It is with my pleasure to announce the conception of the Ray.”[/color]
The ray, a hypothetical device that could be used to scan people for Super blood. From birth, you could be slated with this burdensome title. Restrictions on housing, transportation, jobs, schools, and even which Wal-Mart you can shop at based on one little scan. It was outrageously unfair.
[color=#b3e8ff]“The Ray will allow the US Government to properly prosecute criminals based not only on their sanity, health, and guilt, but now on blood status- to lock up the real criminals where they belong.”[/color] Marie B.T. continued, switching notecards.
[color=#b3e8ff]“On a happier note, now,”[/color] she began with the same unchanging expression, a cemented, false smile, [color=#b3e8ff]“the 2017 raffle has begun. Supers, check with your local government, preferably Town Hall, to ensure that you are registered to enter. Previous registrants will receive 5 tickets, while new registers will be waived of the avoidance fee and receive 1 ticket. The home that is being raffled off will be shown on the screen shortly- a modest seven bedroom, three story house with a basement in Star City, the melting pot of super and not!”[/color] she spits out the silly slogan like poison, putting down her cue card and waiting with that eerie face for the screen to change.