FlatIrons Park Protest

GM: Slinger
Players: Dane, Darius, Miriam
Synopsis:
A protest in FlatIrons park, one that occurred just after the borders in the FRFZ have opened up, leads to a conflict of views.
Date: 11 Mar 2070

The scene, once you arrive, is organized chaos. The protesters are easily recognizable. They are dressed well, in business suits for the men and boys, dresses for the women, and they are all carrying copies of the Book of Mormon. They are the core of those assembled, and surrounding them are others. Natives, some of them, a few priests, a few people who are there in street clothes. A couple of orks, a few trolls, even an elf or two, but primarily, those here to protest are human.
Someone has set up a small PA system, though the volume is hardly blaring, and right now, one of the suited figures it at the podium, speaking calmly into the microphone to address the respectful throng.
They are not the only ones present, however. There are members of the Sand Creek Security forces standing by, with riot vehicles and decked out in their riot gear, but they are making no move to stop anyone from anything right now. Just calmly observing. There are a few news crews, looking bored — this isn't at all interesting. Just people talking. And of course, there are the spectators, who have been cordoned off.
The group has taken over a region of the park, where the trails that wind through the terrain come together into a single clearing.

Dane steps into the area to find himself somewhere to hang with some metas, and it looks like he dressed well today, even though he normally wears a deerhide leather jacket with fringe, he has a tux suit jacket on today.

The speaker continues. "Let us pray for our brethren who are trapped behind this terrible blockade, a racist attack upon their freedom. They are in the Promised Land, yes, but the Great Chief has chosen to cut off travel and even essential supplies — food, medicine — to them, in an effort to starve them out.
There was a clear treaty. In the days of the United States, treaties were broken, yes — but this is 2070, and our brethren have kept to every word of the treaty."

Around the perimeter, the crowd is getting restless. One Native yells out, in accented English, "That is not true! You broke the treaties when you sent spies into our midst!" There seems to be some agreement on this point from those assembled. The Mormons do not react at all, but some of the non-Mormons with them turn and scan the crowd, looking for the source of the comment. The media members lift their cameras. Maybe /now/ there'll be some action.

Dane stops in the clearing at its fringes, not really wanting to be in the midst of everything. He clasps his hands together in front of himself while staying silent to listen to the proposed prayer, but then lifts his face (which probably looks slightly different from an applied disguise). Once brown eyes are currently contacted in a mixture of green and brown, and he scans the scene to look for the one that commented aloud.

With the borders relaxed, 'Miriam''s fake ID passed without too much scrutiny, but it still wouldn't do to attract /too/ much attention. Still, this rally might be her best chance to get at least a feel for the pulse of things, and she has an emergency exit plan prepared just in case. She mingles into the quieter parts of the crowd and tries to get a good view of both the speaker and the hecklers.

Darius stands amidst the rabble, dressed to impres as usual, as he listens and watches, unlike many around him, remaining quiet. After all, what happens here will affect where his group is located, so he's just here to make sure he knows the state of things.

The speaker does not acknowledge the one who shouted the comment out. Instead, he continues, "We had an agreement, and the paranoia of the current Administration has led them to abrogate it. Already, many innocent people have been arrested on trumped-up charges, including Sarah Danacing Shaman, who did nothing more than tell the truth.
"But the truth offends the Ministry of Self-Determination, the secret police who believe that their way is the only way, that their way is the /right/ way. They have suppressed information, they have arrested those who have dared to simply express their views. And they have oppressed the Ute people and the people of Salt Lake City for long enough. We—"
The one who spoke pushes his way forward to the edge of the crowd and ducks under the barricade, his eyes flashing with rage. "How dare you?" he shouts. "The MSD has done nothing but keep our people safe!" He is a young Native, perhaps twenty-four, twenty-five years old, with a long braid running down his back.

+ Noticing Something

Dane is standing there quiet for a moment and watching the native man but then pauses to listen to something that cannot be heard. It is electronic under his headband thing. He closes his eyes slowly. Roger needs something done. Sigh, oh bad timing. He opens his eyes again and then attempts to slink out of the area in a wolfish fashion, hopefully not noticed too much. It sucks, to have to choose, especially to have to leave this. He goes.

+ Dane's Exit

Darius seems to blink at something, and then his eyebrows raise. He begins to shuffle towards the front of the crowd as the man pushes past the barrier, at first he's quite gentle, but then he begins to pick up speed, elbowing his way through the crowd but keeping his eyes set on the young native american who just broke up to where the speakers are.

Miriam very carefully does not tense up or make any sudden moves, but starts to drift in the general direction of the irate young Native. Her breathing slows, and between one exhalation and the next she slips her perception into the space between seconds. When the moment comes, there'll be next to no time to react, and she needs to be ready…

As the Native man slips under the barrier, the Sand Creek troops are already in motion. Several of them head in his direction. "Sir, get back behind the barrier!" one of them orders. The speaker, though, turns without hesitation to face the young Native, showing his suited body fully as he turns behind the microphone, but is still close enough for it to pick up his words. "Perhaps once that was true!" he calls out. "But now, it is a group of thugs who oppress not only outsiders, but also their own people, anyone who /dares/ speak out. We are here today to speak out. We are not afraid of the Ministry!"
The young man looks at the two soldiers converging on him, then, in a swift motion, reaches for his gun…

+ Miriam, Athena, and Darius Spellcasting

Lyons had meant to be visiting the park, something he had done at a much earlier age with his family, and had ended up at the rally quite by accident. Now it seemed his plans of a somewhat peaceful day going all wrong…

As Darius elbows his way forwards through the crowd, he murmurs to himself in some long forgotten tongue- Aramaic to the trained ear, and then all of a sudden a wave of mana washes forth from him, towards the person approaching the speaker. Of course, it's invisible unless one is observing astrally. The ball fo mana on the astral hurtles towards him, but seems to simply dissolve, winking out just as it hits him.

Janie is already moving when the gun is raised - a quick mental command to Athena receives an affirmative response as both Shaman and Ally separately cast the same spell, weaving an invisible shield around the speaker and willing it to hold against the coming onslaught.

Were anyone watching, your spells might have been noticed. But right now? All eyes are on the brewing confrontation unfolding in front of them. The Mormon man stands on the stage, fully exposed, as the young Native draws his gun and fires two shots in rapid succession, sending them toward the man on the stage.

+ Native shooting Mormon

The two shots ring out, and both of them hit the Mormon speaker square in the chest. Yet, neither wound appears to be that deadly. He staggers backward a few paces, then stands up straight once again, with a hint of blood on his chest, staining his shirt. But he doesn't appear seriously injured at all. "My faith in my God," he says, with his voice resonant, with very little in the way of pain affecting it, "protects me. Even from you."
The Native looks ready to fire more shots, but that is when the Sand Creek forces reach him, and swiftly wrestle him to the ground, grabbing the gun.

Miriam relaxes slightly once the shooter is safely tackled, but doesn't cancel the spell just yet while she scans the crowd for a possible second shooter.

The crowd is up in arms, already — not panicking, not yet, but everyone is talking at once. The speaker turns back to the microphone and continues. "That is what we have to contend with! Young men whose heads are filled with nonsense, who have been fed propaganda and brainwashed for years! I do not fear him. I pity him, as I pity all the others who have been told lies and who have been either too weak — or more often, too frightened — to doubt them! Today marks a new beginning, for everyone here, for those who hear my words. A new chance for us to rise up and demand answers from the Ministry of Self-Determination, and tell them that we are capable of determining things for ourselves! No longer should anyone tell us what to think!"
He clears his throat, coughs slightly. "My friends, we must stand strong against them. They can harm some of us, but not all of us. They may try to break us apart, but if we all, Mormon, Native, white and brown and yellow and black, meta and human alike, stand together, then they cannot… topple us." It is growing harder for him to continue, and there is a shout from the crowd of 'Poison!'.
But the speaker appears to be shaking it off. His voice is stronger as he continues. "Poison, yes! That is their way — lies, propaganda, poisoning our minds. They have tried to poison my body, but I am strong enough to withstand it — just as our minds must be strong enough—"

+ Miriam's Perception

Darius huhs as the bullets simply deflect around him, but he laughs and shakes his head as the man claims god. "Not god, magic. But I wonder who." he says, msotly to himself as he glances about.

+ Miriam Assensing
+ Sniper Shot

There is no warning. No sound at all. The speaker's body simply seems to explode, transforming in an instant from a man into a ragged piece of flesh that flies backward from the microphone to collapse in a bloody heap on the ground. Blood spurts from his body, flowing outward onto the ground.
Several seconds pass as people scream and shout — almost loud enough for the distant sound of the shot to finally reach the park itself.

Miriam's eyes widen as the speaker dies to a sniper bullet, then snaps her head back toward the two onlooking shamans, reaching into her pocket to her PDA and setting it to record the feed from her shades. She may not be much of a decker herself, but she knows a few people who will be able to find out who those men were…

+ Perception Checks

The cops are, for just an instant, as stunned as everyone else — and then they all are moving. People in the crowd are running, fleeing, or ducking for cover, and the police are rushing forward in the direction of that shot to form an armored barrier to protect the crowd, as they were ordered to. The Mormons continue to sit where they are, most of them, though two of them — including one of the elves — rushes forward toward the leader.
Another, a troll, just grits his teeth and keeps looking at the one who was speaking. Many of the children, staring in horror and shock, burst into tears.
And the cameras are there to capture it all.

Selene was all along keeping to the edges of the clearing, out of the way of the protest, simply watching from a short distance away. Then, when all hell breaks loose, she looks as stunned and flat footed as the rest of the civilian population.

Not /everyone/ is stunned, as a dark-haired woman vaults over the barrier and sprints between the police and the mormons toward the fallen body of the speaker. "Keep us covered!" she snaps in a voice echoing with authority as she kneels beside the body, reducing her profile as much as possible to deny the sniper another shot as she concentrates. "We've only got one chance at this," she murmurs at one of the mormons near her. "If you've any prayers, this'd be a good time…"

+ Miriam Athletics Check

The elf and human look up at Miriam in stunned disbelief. They were checking the wounds of their fallen comrade, and one of them — the elf, one can tell in the astral — is Awakened. As Miriam tries to approach their leader, they try to push her away from him. "Who are you?" the human demands. "Get away!" He's terrified, emotional, and tries to shove at Miriam.

+ Melee with Elf and Human

Miriam barely slows down as she slides around the first shove, then deflects the other's push into the first one. "I'm the only person here right now that has a chance of saving your speaker," she replies as Athena's owl form settles on her shoulder to add her power to her mistress'.

+ Miriam's Healing Rolls

The man gasps, the wound healing — at least somewhat — under Janie's touch. He coughs several times, even as the elf and human manage to push her back, breaking contact with the body. But that's all right — you can sustain it without actually touching him. Even so, they turn and stare at him — the healing is happening miraculously quickly.
About that time, there are sirens approaching, an ambulance headed this way. The cops must have called them, and they must have had one standing by. He reaches up toward Miriam, though, to grasp her arm. "Don't let them take me," he pleads. "Don't let them take me from my people!"

Miriam nods and takes his hand, remaining in a kneeled position by the speaker, then looks at the elf. "There are two shamans up in the stands who were expecting this." Then a glance at the human. "Organize his people. Make sure at least two of you are with him at all times and remain in contact… Speaking of which, check who summoned that ambulance — they had a back-up sniper ready in case their 'spontaneous' shooter failed; it's not improbable that they had another backup plan in case the sniper missed."

Selene cranes her neck to watch the excitment up front, but otherwise keeps her distance, and her counsel.

The speaker is breathing hard, clearly in a great deal of pain. Even so, he nods once to the elf. "Bring me the microphone," he tells his companion. The elf quickly nods and slips to the stage to retrieve it. He brings it back, and the man speaks once again. "I'm still alive, thanks to this woman here." He squeezes Janie's jand. "But now, we should leave. The Ministry of Self-Determination has made our point for us." With that, he turns off the microphone, and then turns to Janie. "Can you help us? We have our own doctors, and I don't want to ride in their ambulance. I suspect I would… never arrive." He is still impressively weak, but there is a fire, a will in him that keeps him going.

Miriam nods thoughtfully, considering. "I can't afford to have too many questions asked about my identity or my presence here," she replies softly, then looks up at the companion. "Do any of you have transportation?" she asks. "I'd trust the police where I wouldn't trust that ambulance right now…"

Several of the armored police officers approach Miriam and the one who spoke. "Dr. Smith," one of them says. "Would you come with us, sir? The ambulance will be here in a few moments. For your own safety, sir."

+ Assensing the Officer

Miriam doesn't quite bare her teeth at them. "I take it you have ID?" she asks. "It's not that I want to appear mistrustful, but someone has already expended a great deal of resources trying to kill him, and that ambulance arrived a little bit too conveniently fast…"

Meanwhile, behind her back where only Dr. Smith's companion can see it, she clenches her fist twice.

Clenching a fist once might have been natural. Clenching it twice is sending a signal of some kind. Whatever it is, it means, get /away/. The two start leading the good doctor away, and the 'officers' take a step forward to follow — but Miriam is in their way.
The officer who originally spoke glares at Miriam. "Get out of our way," he says, arrogantly. "We have a job to do." In other words, the answer to her question is, 'no'.
The other one, though, isn't speaking. Instead, he's staring intently at the doctor.

"I'm sure you do," Janie murmurs, then looks past them at the cops by the cordon. "Excuse me, officer!" she shouts. "Could you come over here and vouch for your colleagues?"

That's torn it. The doctor has gotten a few meters away by this time, when the one in front of Janie pulls out a gun of his own. The other one is casting a spell, right at the same time…

How considerate of them; Janie had been wishing she had a gun in her hands and here's someone holding one out. Sure, it's pointing in the wrong direction, but that's easily fixed…

Initiatives, Round 1
+ Miriam's Attack

Miriam lunges for the gun but can't quite get a decent grip on it, receiving an elbow to the stomach for her efforts that she shrugs off as Athena comes screeching in.

+ Athena's Attack

Athena screeches like an enraged steam whistle as she flies straight into the face of the gunman. The gunman flails his free arm, trying to fend off the berserk owl, and manages to come away with merely torn clothing to show for it. No real injuries but between the owl and the woman hanging on to his other hand it's really hard to aim…

+ MSD Mage 2

The second one, the one who is not embroiled in combat with Janie, steps out and lifts a hand, murmuring something — and sends a bolt of power that scorches through the air toward the slowly-escaping doctor. And yet, halfway there, it seems to simply fade out, with no effect at all. More shouts and screams come from those nearby, who are in full-bore panic right now.
The bolt of power draws the attention of the real officers, several of twhom turn and start this way, lifting their weapons — but they won't have any effect right at the instant.

+ Selene's Control Thoughts Spell

Still far removed from the chaos in front, Selene begins a slow gyration of her hips, ridiculous in this outfit, but recognizable as a poor imitation of May's bellydancing style. It is a strange sight, the dark haired girl in oversize outdoor gear, dancing away her arms slowly seeming to spread into dark wings as she concentrates on the mage near Miriam. Lord knows why she feels compelled to help the other woman, whom she has only met once. But she gives it a shot anyway.

+ Darius's Attack

Darius pulls a gun from somewhere, "Ah, usually mages require a cruder touch." He comments as he watches the mage effortly deflect spells. He pulls the trigger, and a glob of gel hits the mage right in the chest, sent her flying to the ground.

Quite a distance away from the protest and skirting the more popular sections of the park, a large amerind tears through the woods on a beefy off-road (dirt)bike. The bike is incredibly quiet for it's type and not likely to be heard over the sounds on site, at least not to unaugmented listeners. The large rider handles it expertly as he bounds and weaves through the little-used trail with a hunting rifle strapped to his back.
Cresting a ridge, the bike kicks up a small cloud of dust as it quickly brakes and skids to a stop. The rider, who has apparently noticed the demonstration off in the more central gathering area, quickly silences and backpedals the bike back into the concealment of heavier vegetation.
Jag lays the well-loved Offroader down in spring's mix of wet mud and snow; though there'd normally be more - the ork uses this trail quite often to get back and forth from 'here' to 'there'. He quickly shrugs out of the rifle's sling and leaves it behind as he half-scrambles back up to the ridge with a pair of battered binoculars. Barely peeking over the ridgeline from behind a tree, the young ork adjusts the focus and looks out across the park, over towads the scene of the protest.

Miriam follows the gunman to the ground as he stumbles, never letting go of the gun and pinning his elbow with her knee.

+ Miriam's Melee + Shooting Mojo

Miriam continues her struggle with the gunman on the ground, wrestling for control of the pistol when it suddenly goes off - and takes the gunman's partner in fascist oppression in both ankles. The man goes down howling in agony as the gunman looks on horrified at what he just did. Janie meets his eyes and grins viciously at him, then puts her knee into his kidney while getting up.

A quick assessment of the battle tells her that she's cutting things too close for comfort, and she's not in the mood for answering bothersome questions from the police right now, so she takes a deep breath and calls on the genus loci — she just prevented a murder taking place here, it owes her a favor or two in return…

+ Miriam Sneaking Away

Miriam stands up, eyes shimmering silvery grey as she turns to face the approaching cops while a soft breeze picks up leaves and debris and wisps of sudden fog - and when they disappear, Miriam is no longer standing there.

Jag drops to a knee and moves forward just slightly in an attempt to get a better view of what's going on. He holds the battered 'nocs by the front of the lenses, using his hands to not only to shade them from the late afternoon sun, but also to help prevent any possible reflections that might betray his position.

Selene takes a long look at the scene below, satisfied that Miriam got away, and still unable to descern why she should care, she starts to back away, trying to melt back into the park and slip away.

The doctor is being escorted, now, by a group of his own people, who surround him, eyeing those around suspiciously. Led toward a waiting group of cars. The police are letting him leave. Apparently, they have orders to protect the protesters — this will already be bad enough publicity as it stands.
Even the news crews are coming out of where they ducked into hiding to let the cameras record the scene. There'll be plenty of footage of this tonight!
page revision: 28, last edited: 12 Mar 2010 00:54
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