The Arena Riots ( open, gamewide )

[civilobedience]

Who: The Militia, the city, and you.
What: The Arena Riots.
Where: The Arena, Griss Twist.
When: Newdi, Eliaderen 1. (Monday Oct 1st)
Notes: Companion post for questions and plotting is here.
Warnings: Violence, police brutality, disturbing content and imagery, graphic death.

It's apparent even before dawn that something out of the ordinary is happening. Canton sheriffs are roused from their sleep or pulled away from their work to be told that on no uncertain terms, today will be a day that they do not leave their neat lines on the map. That their individual offices will be responsible for all crime and unrest within their jurisdictions, with no help; the powers that be offer no details, but the creeping feeling in their presence suggests no questions would be tolerated anyway – the implication that they'll all be watched is a strong one. In Mog Hill, Sheriff Norrington proceeds as he always does under such orders. In Mafaton, leadership is stoic but one deputy laughs, sharp and bitter, while the Emissary of the Council merely checks his watch, unseen underground. Sir Hellsing is pulled away from her dinner in the Guild Hall, a Sobek Croix deputy anxiously relaying the news. The sound of shattered glass disturbs the pre-dawn silence in Flyside, a brick hurled by some faceless figure into the front window of Thames – and nothing else.

From the Spire, hooded Militiamen move quietly and uniformly south, to Griss Twist. They are followed by wagons, full of prisoners.

Comments

[goodsoldier]

In the stands (he'd come late, held up by the crowds and the desire to pass beneath the notice of the Militia agents everywhere), Jason has no real plan of action: there are civilians everywhere, more than even he can have on whatever serves as his conscience when it comes to explosives, incendiaries, and other large scale attacks. It's not like he could smuggle a rocket launcher in, even assuming he had one. And there's a certain terrible inertia to what Argo set in motion. Later, he'll think that maybe he was waiting. He may not feel anything personally for this Bruce, certainly no special loyalty and nothing of the kind of connection that made them efficient on the same side of a fight back home, but it could have been that, nonetheless, he was waiting for exactly what happens. He's different, yes. He's still Bruce.

Argo's pronouncement sets off that electricity hidden to those above them, the chaotic art of crowd dynamics — Jason knows what's going to happen, that things have come precisely to a boil. Seconds before the protesters break in, he's fighting his way toward the rail, he's shrugging the extendable tonfa out of his sleeves, weapons he loathes but they're concealable and have a much longer reach than a knife, and it doesn't matter. He'll never make it to Bruce. There are so many people, so many Militia agents. That's okay. He'll just fight.