multiversallogs | The Arena Riots ( open, gamewide )

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Fortunately Spike was in tune with subtle cues in the middle of life or death situations, and if he had a side in this fight, it seemed to be the same as the other man. Everything else around him was a blur of faces as he threw blows whenever he has a clear shot of landing them, and more often ducked and dodged flying bullets and other things he couldn't begin to understand; he supposed he didn't need to.

The longer they fought in one position, it became clear that they'd be ganged up on until they were snuffed out with the other troublemakers. (Which would happen eventually, he wasn't kidding himself.) When he had a moment to make eye contact, Spike gave a curt nod of acknowledgement. Lead and he'd follow.

He takes the agent's gun, a more difficult task than it would be without an entire goddamn riot going on around them, and checks the clip as he makes his way toward the railing. Still a good amount of rounds left, and he raises an eyebrow at Spike, seeing if he wants it. Jason's fine with guns, but he does have other weapons, so it seems polite to make the offer.

Seemed he'd made a friend. If there was a plan there, he didn't have time to figure out the ulterior motives at work. It wasn't difficult to decide to fight the group shooting at them, anyway.

When he had the chance, he checked out the situation going on below. It looked like it just got more intense the further they went. So why not? Spike shoved another faceless body away far enough to have an opening, then raised a hand, suggesting that he'd catch the gun if Jason threw it. No time like the present to see what else they were missing.

Jason obligingly tosses the gun to Spike, then takes another look at their targets below. He's half expected to see the telekinetic from the Flag Hill bar all day but she's likely closer to Argo than she is out in this mess. Still, he hardly thinks she's the only one. No one in this particular group appears to be utilizing any such abilities, but he would like to test that before they start shooting, which is why he flashes Spike a 'hold on' hand signal (since they've done fine with non-verbal communication so far) and disappears back the way they came with some difficulty. Moments later, he's back — with the Militia agent's body. And he's perfectly capable of carrying and even flinging it himself, but he's going to need Spike's help to get it the right distance onto the group below.

As far as their current activities, Spike was more than used to catching on without the need for explanation. He made his way over without getting shot, and his conscience didn't immediately flare up at the idea of using someone's body as a means of dropping in on whoever was underneath. (There were easier ways of doing that, but he was still the outsider here. Easier to go with the flow when options were limited.) At least, he had a feeling they weren't about to drag them off to get medical attention.

Shouldering the newly acquired weapon, he used his free arm to grab a hold of the other side. Then it was just a matter of aiming.

Though the body is not especially big, Jason thinks they have a better chance of not leaping down into a deluge of bullets if a body falls on them first, presuming, of course, that there is no telekinetic attached to the group.

"On three — I'm headed down right after it. Come with or cover me," Jason suggests, because he's diplomatic enough not to boss around some guy he barely knows and Spike's been nice about listening to him.

Simple enough. There wasn't any time to make promises of how long he'd keep the teamwork act up, and that was for the best. Trust wasn't one of his motivators, and he expected nothing. Sort it out later.

Without another word, he did what he was asked. As far as following, Spike was stubbornly curious what he'd find further down. Part of him wanted to see how far he could get.

And on three, the body sails over the railing and knocks over two out of six agents, who further knock over or at least greatly inconvenience three of the remaining four. That leaves only one able and free to shoot at them; Jason has braved worse odds, and since Spike follows him, he assumes Spike has too. It's sort of interesting to seemingly know that much about a person without knowing anything else about them, or even their name.

A bullet does in fact graze Jason, but it can't stop gravity, and neither, fortunately for them both, can anyone else in this particular group of Militia. Jason takes out the one shooter before he's even properly landed, which is a difficult matter due to an abundance of semi-prone agents instead of solid ground; even as he does that, however, two of the not fully knocked over agents are raising their guns, and a third is starting to get up. Spike is both dangerous to them and in more danger of getting shot, but agents that rely on guns or even other weapons in close combat are just that little bit delayed. Two out of the the three agents moving into action are raising their guns to aim at Spike.

Spike was aware of where Jason landed; that was where his concentration shifted to that attention he'd been after. He had two choices: raise his arms in surrender and trust that they wouldn't shoot, or encourage them to try their luck. He decided on the latter once he had two feet firmly on the ground, instantly rushing at the closest Militia and delivering a kick to the jaw before he could get a shot off.

The other had more time, and the bullets started flying. Spike kept his head down, his movements quick, and closed in to disarm the remainder. The crowds made any hand-to-hand tricky, but he was committed now. Three he could take care of, it was all the other factors that really brought the danger. He may not be so fast the next time.

The Arena Riots ( open, gamewide )

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