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

[inkdamage]

He does give it, but perhaps not in the most polite of ways. Behind him still, Severus conjures a small card - his name and CiD number written on it in slanted handwriting - and sticks it in the bag he cleaned a moment ago. Then he leaves the room, walking with one hand out as he passes, and any gore and grime left from blood or sickness vanishes.

In his wake, there's a number of useful odds and ends left with Vanessza, ranging from hyper-effective bandages to topical painkillers to ever-smoking potions in glass jars meant to revive anyone who drinks it. But as he's not participating in the triage itself, that's about as much help as he's going to be, and lingering any longer will just put him underfoot. Outside the apartment, he turns on his heel and disappears, off to investigate the situation from some other angle - or perhaps, merely return home.

[amberdrake]

Amberdrake would make a poor kestra'chern indeed if he was easily offended or ruffled, so he just continues on with his work until this latest wave of incoming injured are dealt with.

When he goes to leave shortly after, he's pleased to find the card when he goes to dose himself from the thermos again... and he's intrigued to find the state said tea is in. Yes, he'll definitely be contacting this 'Severus Snape' once things have calmed down.

For a variety of reasons, perhaps. Drake is, under all his present exhaustion, curious.