singing the song of angry men? [protest - open]

frankel
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call me jaded

singing the song of angry men? [protest - open] Apr 29, 2024 13:04:14 GMT -5

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Post by frankel on Apr 29, 2024 13:04:14 GMT -5

KARL AMOS

Desperate times call for desperate measures. In just one day since the mayor’s failed opening of Fenwick’s research facility, Karl has witnessed twelve of his friends being picked off by peacekeepers and marched to the District’s holding facility. Who knows what will happen to them now. A trip to the detention centre? Will he even see them again? The blame is sinking hard on his shoulders, he is the one that flipped the switch on this strike and somehow, he got away unscathed. Victims of a revolution, if that is what it takes, he’ll put himself on the line for the next time.

Peacekeeper patrols have strengthened, he tried to return to his apartment after the first protest but there was an armoured guard posted right by his door. They have his name and face printed. From a guy saved from the reaping to a wanted man. It is sure one way to live this second chance at life that Flynn Garner the volunteer gifted him. If getting arrested causes even just a little change in Six, he will take it as a success.

The first union meeting was inside the University’s library but that’s now off limits, most streets are but those still free find safety in a burnt-out pharmaceutical factory, one that has been derelict for some short years. Look up, and the outside is blaring through the holes in the roof and the glass in every window is no more, blown out by the inferno that shut down this place down. It’ll do as a short meeting point.

The plan today – a human barricade on the doors of the research facility before the first shift can begin.

Everyone is up early; Karl has helped gather various supplies for them to take. They may be there hours or shorter, if the keepers want to play the brute force game.

”Heidi, did you bring the chains and the signs? I have the bottles of glue if anyone wants to take them.” Karl offers bottles to those who plan to stick themselves to the steps. Karl is opting to chain himself to the door handles, alongside Heidi. ”Are you ready Aodhán? We need to get over there before dawn breaks.” Various homemade signs with fun chants on them line up on the sooty factory floor, this is going to be one big decorated protest!

Everyone brushes up on the final touches, it a short walk to Fenwick’s building but it takes longer trying to dodge the keeper patrols. Karl spends most of his time with his back against brick buildings, peering around corners and hoping the way is clear. How a lab scientist became a revolutionary leader, fate and maybe science really has its twists. The pressure is on him, all the faces following and alongside him. So long as nobody gets harmed, if they get arrested it will be just a few weeks in the detention centre, nothing more. He can’t remember the last public execution in Six, that’s if he doesn’t count the Hunger Games.

If they need to take a head because of this, he will offer his. The heads behind and beside him have families to return to. Karl has nobody. There’s nothing to lose but the dignity of his District.

There are keepers all around the facility, they’ll need to be sneaky to get to the doors before they’re stopped.

”I hope you’ve all been practicing your sprinting, it’ll be hard to catch us all.” He says before taking in one long breath into his lungs as preparation. They gather behind the fountains and benches that decorate the walkway up to Fenwick’s, waiting for the right opportunity. ”Go. Go. Go!” Karl calls and he is already moving on his second go. The chain and padlock in his hand rattle as he sprints towards the double doors. The ruckus begins and the keepers begin to shout and dash towards the protesters. They’re too slow though, for Karl anyway. He is secured to the door before the slippery hands of peacekeeper’s can grab him.

”Fenwick out!” Karl calls out, he’s not been the best at coming up with literate chants. ”Only the people can fix Six!” The chains are tied tight around his wrist, to the door handle of the facility. Others join him to form a human chain, and some help the barricade by sitting on the steps and glueing their hands to the concrete. For now, the protesters outnumber the peacekeepers. But how long will that last?

Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie
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singing the song of angry men? [protest - open] Apr 29, 2024 15:26:14 GMT -5

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Post by Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie on Apr 29, 2024 15:26:14 GMT -5

There was a public ordeal. I stood outside Verbrecher Pharmaceuticals with a sign that read “Verbrecher means criminal!” and through megaphone my voice chanting “LD50 is a myth, they will kill us all…Say no to drugs! Say no to experiments!”

I raised my middle finger up to my cousin, Gunnar, staring at me from his blood-stained tower. Not even five minutes later my father was out on the streets, hysterically shouting that I was no longer to come home. In the moment I couldn’t care less, convinced my mother would never let such a thing happen.

After everything she would not throw out here little girl.

My stuff was waiting for me in a trash bag outside the house that afternoon. “Come back when you are done playing rebel, you should be grateful for everything this family has given you.” The door slammed on my face, and I spent the night on the streets.

Two weeks later.

Aodhán Cassidy was a familiar face. A man from my world amongst the flood of the working class. His passion still burning bright, I saw a bit of my father in him if the money never had gotten to his head. The way he led the union inspired me, strengthening my belief that Empathy was vital for passion…I was beginning to take it a step further to believe empathy was the key to success.

Or maybe I was trying to replace the father figure I had lost with the man who let me sleep on his couch.

A psychologist would have argued the ladder but as a scientist I chose to claim I was just expanding the parameters of my experiment. The padlock in the bag weighed heavy against my shoulder, dragging it down, the pain keeping me awake at the early hour. The sun had not yet risen, but Aodhán and I had set out early to meet with Karl and whoever dared to join us.

We were pushing the boundaries of extreme, but I was already in way too deep. I had lost my work…my entire childhood spent in that lab. I had lost my father and now even my mother. The king size bed covered in stuffed animals formed into the shapes of viruses. Morbillivirus with its adorable red spots had accompanied me on my first day at daycare. Influenza A was always there to listen to me vent when I forgot to protocol something correctly in the lab.

My life as I knew it was over and as dramatic as it sounds this was all I had.

There is nothing more dangerous than a privileged white girl who just about lost everything she had. Gunnar and everyone down at the mayor’s office could suck it.

“Yessir!” I rattled the bag confirming to Karl that the chains were ready for us. The turnout today was more than we had expected, it seemed like each week we had caught the attention of new potential protesters. Spreading the cause through the hallowed halls of pharmaceutical companies, the same ones who’s CEO’s invited m family to their lake house in the summer. Doctors in the hospitals growing weary of technology taking away their jobs.

The system is broken, health care needed people with a heart. It needs people who care about other people.

Running alongside Karl, alongside a herd of people fighting for a change was exhilarating. Freedom was a drug and recklessness was close on my tail. There was a point I knew I could not cross, when the adrenaline rush became my motivation I would know I had lost all sense of the cost. The fine line dangerously close in sight, but I knew my limits and in all of it…it was not the Heidi show.

Karl was the main act.

He was the one to lock the chain, the both of us unable to separate from the doors. Other members glueing themselves to the walls while those who were not quick enough were being dragged away. A peacekeeper lunged towards me, attempting to pull my body from out underneath the chains. My arms and legs flailed without a target, hoping to cause enough commotion that they would back off.

“Fuck you!” I spat at one as me managed to grab ahold of my leg. My entire torse now in the air as I continued to thrash even managing to get a good kick to his face.

“This is our district, our home! Fenwick get fucked, it’s our blood on your hands!”

Last Edit: Apr 29, 2024 15:27:01 GMT -5 by Hafen d4 ⚓︎ minie

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singing the song of angry men? [protest - open] May 3, 2024 8:49:43 GMT -5

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Post by d8 🐀 setta furey on May 3, 2024 8:49:43 GMT -5

AODHÁN CASSIDY

Aodhán is awake long before the sun — he spends the last hours of the night sitting on the step outside his back door, watching the stars. He’s never been a man for the night sky, contrary to what many people assume. He has no affinity with the balls of gas up there, no love for the moon. He loves the sun dearly, for what it represents, for the fact that the dawn echoes in his name, for the innocence he feels wash over him with the break of every new day. He watched the sunrise with Fionn once, back when he was small and still had an ounce of reverence left in him. He hasn’t watched it with Fiadh yet. With what’s planned today, he doubts he ever will.

Being away from his kids feels increasingly difficult; especially since it proves his ex-wife and, more importantly, Fionn right, in their minds at least. But their futures hang in the balance; Six can’t afford to let Fenwick and her Capitol crones to run them into ruin, one caged citizen at a time.

He thinks he hears a noise from inside. Aodhán cranes his neck, tries to see if one of the lights is on. Heidi, probably, if he isn’t imagining things. He pushes to his feet, hands braced on his knees. Time to get going.

.

“I’m ready,” Aodhán quips back to Karl. Despite the gravity of the situation, he can’t help allowing a smile to tug at one corner of his mouth. The fire in his belly sparks, flashes. Burns, but so sweetly. He tests the weight of the chains in his hands — there’s no way he’s allowing Karl, and certainly not Heidi, to be alone, no matter what either of them thought of their situations. In the buzz of the preparations, it’s easy to view his children, who he’d missed so dearly that morning, as conceptual rather than real, but Karl and Heidi both ground him, remind him not to let the flame take over completely.

Karl is a braver man at his age than Aodhán even is now. Heidi, well, the youth have to join the fight for any success, but still, he’d like to protect her. He’d like her to live to see the future she’s signed up to fight for.

Aodhán counts down his own personal timer, launches into movement just a second behind Karl. Enough time to watch him propelling forward, the dust under his feet fanning Aodhán’s flame. He runs, more sure with each step, until he skids to a halt, and loops his chains up. The click of the lock is final; he loves that sound.

“People of six, we are the real Blessing in disguise! The Fenwick is burning out! Cham is a sham!”

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singing the song of angry men? [protest - open] May 6, 2024 22:35:59 GMT -5

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Post by Bella on May 6, 2024 22:35:59 GMT -5

IGNACIO AGUILA-REYES

By the time I see the chains and super glue that Karl Amos is toting around, I know I’m already in this thing too deep.

The union leaders with the titles and lengthy degrees gave me a job to do–get to the door, hold the line, guard the people behind me. An honorable enough job, and I’m happy to follow orders in the midst of this chaos, a sea of heads and shoulders, their bodies close to buzzing like taut guitar strings. The air is electric, full of hushed, excited murmurs.

I follow close behind Karl, guarding his back, my eyes trailing a three-person peacekeeper patrol walking past. They were clearly on edge–otherwise, they’d be in pairs, I remember. I wonder if any of those guys would recognize me now, with my hair grown out and the little goatee combo I’ve got going. Guess we’ll see, if I end up punching one in the face.

”I hope you’ve all been practicing your sprinting, it’ll be hard to catch us all,” Karl quips back to us. His voice carries a note of self-confidence that I'm noticing more and more in these academic types–like someone who has never been in a fight but is already sure of the win. I don’t knock him for it. It’s better to have a leader like that, so the people behind them aren’t tripping on self-doubt. Just trust me.

”Go. Go. Go!” he shouts, and I’m right on his tail as I sprint too, silent but watchful. That glimmer of surprise right before the peacekeepers start chasing us is priceless. I can’t help but crack a smile knowing I’m still faster than half of these donut-munching city keeps, even after two years of at-home workouts and post-shift beers.

And just like that, we’re lined up. I nod to a few of my boys from the shop who are watching my back, then stand my ground at the front. To my right are some nurses whose heavy eyes tell me they’ve worked long hours for too little pay–I can almost see the weight of their families on their sagging shoulders. Believe me, I know what it looks like.

To my left are Aodhán Cassidy and the girl who’s crashing on his couch, Heidi something-I-can’t-pronounce. I’m familiar with the former ever since he fixed a compound fracture in Mati’s shinbone. I wonder if he remembers me, the grass-stained kid in hand-me-downs carrying his brother into the emergency room after a football game gone sour. Mom had just passed, and we were too broke to call the ambulance, so it must have been almost eleven years ago now.

Left and right, I’ll guard them with all I’ve got. I’m feeling straight sober, adrenaline pinching the length of my spine as the peacekeepers approach. The two next to me are spitting phrases they must have thought about on the way here, and they have me wishing I was quicker with words. I’m more absorbed in the way Heidi-Something lands a kick square in a keeper’s face right as I’m moving to help her, shouting Fuck-you for good measure. Which leaves me feeling pretty damn useless and slightly turned on.

My hands reach for one of her arms to help her back to her feet. ”Nice one,” I grunt before turning away to keep an eye on the crowd. Aodhán’s chanting has earned him the attention of a pair of two twin-like keepers, Humpty and Dumpty, who are now lumbering towards him, fingers gripping their batons all too eagerly. The hairs prickle on the back of my neck, that sixth sense I’ve got for a fight about to break out.

Striding over there to put my body between Humpty and Dumpty and the doctor, I straighten up to demonstrate I’ve got a few inches of height on them both, though they might be older. This is what I have to offer the resistance, a strong body and a decent set of cojones.

”Wrong way, fellas,” I say, pointing a finger upward. ”The real menace is on the top floor. Think about it.” My food for thought only goes skin-deep, seriously, I have no fucking clue where Blessing Fenwick’s office is, or what they do on the top floor, but they both look up, just what I’m hoping for. Before they can open their mouths, my hands are reaching out to conk their helmeted heads together like two gray metal basketballs.

They’re stunned, then obviously pissed. Humpty winds up a punch; I knock it aside with my forearm, but Dumpty catches me with a mean side-hook in the shoulder. Hissing through a sportsmanlike grin, I ball up my right fist and send it right into his jaw. That cracking sound of my knuckles against his teeth sounds something like the pillars of my past righting themselves–thanks, the poetry comes from my mother’s side.

Humpty is pulling his brother back through the crowd to inspect the damage and I’m turning back to Aodhàn, cheesing triumphantly. Now I know where all their words came from; a few of them are welling up in my chest like fireworks, itching for the fuse to be lit.

”People of Six!” I shout, calling them what Aodhán just called them because it sounded impressive. ”Show them who this hospital really belongs to! It’s time to take back what’s ours!”