The Militia. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
civilobedience) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
multiversallogs2012-10-01 08:45 pm
civilobedience) wrote in multiversallogs2012-10-01 08:45 pm
Entry tags:
- @ aspic,
- @ griss twist,
- @ griss twist: arena,
- @ syriac well,
- amberdrake,
- ava lockhart,
- benevenuta crispo,
- gemma "gg" giordano,
- hassan farrakhan,
- ilde decima,
- ivan,
- jack benjamin,
- jaime lannister,
- james t. kirk,
- jason todd,
- kalenedral,
- lea bit eshtazin,
- megan gwynn,
- npc,
- rachel conway,
- raylan givens,
- seoraj,
- severus snape α,
- sharon "boomer" valerii,
- spike spiegel,
- wolfgang einhorn,
- { bruce wayne,
- { logan,
- } alan shore
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.
no subject
"I've got an idea."
Starfleet produces great big heroes, men and women ready to make grand gestures for the greater good. And Jim's something of a daredevil to begin with. So, fair warning: this is probably a terrible idea.
"We know the Militia is shooting at anyone that gets their attention, right? And people will scatter from it. Well." He pulls the breastplate on, trying to secure it. "I'm gonna go down there and shout at people to head this way. If they listen, great. If the Militia takes a few shots at me, they ought to run this way to get away from the gunfire. Right?"
no subject
"I think it's a lot of risk for a lot of maybes. But riots tend to get uglier before they stop, and I haven't got any better ideas. You want me to come down and watch you back?" Because it's crazy, but Raylan's drawing a blank, and Jim doesn't seem like he'll let a bit of risk to life and limb stop him.
(At Jim's age, Raylan probably wouldn't have either. It's debatable whether he will now.)
no subject
"Maybe come down part of the way. We should keep one of us nearer the door to direct people. I think if we can get the flow of traffic going that way, it'll take care of itself once it gets started. It's just getting people that direction that we need right now."
He glances up, a hint of a sly smile tugging at his mouth. "And you already got shot once. No point letting them have seconds with you if we can help it."
Augh, so much later - if you want to handwave from here, we can
"Once people get moving, I'll try to keep the flow heading this direction. You be careful."