OOC Thread
Fineberg, New Edom
In the years long fight for LGBT+ rights in New Edom, controversy had bloomed once again. In the light of agreements with foreign nations to permit emigration, the government had, controversially, permitted people to declare their orientation in a few different ways. For instance, people could report themselves for reeducation, or could admit their orientation in order to emigrate to nations accepting their orientation. Because of these loopholes, discussion was once again possible. In spite of a violent attempted set of purges two years ago under the government of General Nicanor, it was hoped that the more liberal acting presidency of Count Lalery might make it possible to agitate for rights.
Cloris had never participated in a demonstration before in her life. There'd never been anything in the twenty five years of her life that had stirred her up enough to do more than make the most passive protest. Normally, Iris wasn't very sure what she really believed in, especially when the object of protest was somehow remote from her daily life like climate change, education, health provision, trades union rights, and so on. And she'd always been scared off by the threat of public disorder. She didn't want to be in a peaceful demonstration that then became a full-fledged riot. That was bad not only because innocent people got killed and lynched, but also because it was a dangerous place to be.
A big protest was brewing in her city. It was to protest the human rights abuses going on in New Edom against LGBT people. New trade agreements involving normally more tolerant nations such as the Shrailleeni Empire, Adiron, Shalum, McNernia and others had been in the news, and outrage on the part of human rights activists that nothing was being done on their front had reached a boiling point. The various organizations such as the Organization for Free Expression, Church Human Rights Interests Syndicate of the Tabernacle, The Edomite Freedom Coalition were gearing up to make a lot of noise and try to get world leaders to discuss the abuses while in the very country doing the abusing. People were going to be on both sides of the debate and there was bound to be some anger, and perhaps even some violence.
Cloris lived in a commune building with other counter cultural people, including her Dengali friend and lover Ayesha who was a relief doctor but worked below the radar as she did not have an official job. Her friends Mark and Jorin worked at the Rosa Crucis Relief center as well, largely doing administrative work, while she, Cloris, was a Latin teacher. Normally the groups they associated generally kept their heads low, and in the confusion of shifting urban life, hordes of people still moving to cities for work, moving in from different parts of the Empire, the LGBT movement, the counter-culturalists, even the socialists were often not really noticed as long as they were not too much in people’s faces. But tensions and fears had begun to explode, and it was hoped that world opinion might, this time, make a difference. Cloris hoped so but feared not.
Cloris and her friends were among the protestors who were nude. They were painted with slogans such as LOVE IS LOVE and FREEDOM IS BEAUTIFUL to distinguish themselves from blue and white End Times Church protestors. There was variety though. There were a lot of men dressed in camouflage, and heavier, thicker clothes than this time of year would necessitate, and there were a plethora of backpacks with Peace signs, rainbow flags and biblical protest signs from the friendly ecumenical church groups urging pacifism and peaceful conflict resolution. What they wanted, all of them, was to raise the question for the national legislature to consider at least making it legal to declare oneself a non-heterosexual, even if same sex marriage, adoption and office holding were in the far distant future. At least let the government protest the right to be who you were.
Her friends and acquaintances was completely swamped in a vast crowd that had congregated in open defiance of the punitive penalties imposed by the Council of Ministers with the general support of the Chamber of Deputies. friends and acquaintances was completely swamped in a vast crowd that had congregated in open defiance of the punitive penalties imposed by the government. It took awhile for the march to actually begin, though the first demonstrators had shuffled off several hours earlier. There was a palpable sense of conspiratorial partying in the whole event that Iris and her friends felt as they browsed stalls selling pro LGBT and revolutionary literature. There was an illicit thrill in doing something illegal. And, unlike taking drugs or importing goods cheaply from outside the Empire, it was illegal activity in the full glare of publicity and where there was a very real chance of being found out. All around the marshals in orange reflective were there to remind protestors that this was a peaceful demonstration and that any violence or civil disorder would be pounced on instantly
The main goal was to march into the areas where foreigners would not be able to ignore what was going on. Everyone with acquaintances or friends who might be sympathetic among well off foreigners who might film and stream the protest on their phones, and in particular around the buildings on the cruciform area of ‘embassy row’ would be shown this protest. Thus far the organizing had worked, as it had largely been done through social media, which the government was uneven about monitoring. It was a cheerful good-natured march where children were lifted up on their parents' shoulders and where Social Democrats in their rubber boots and organically woven clothes were singing rousing songs
There were, however, some signs of alarm. ETC counter protestors, by mid morning, had begun showing up in trucks in groups dozens strong, vastly outnumbered but more aggressive, painted blue and white and naked, without firearms but armed with their own signs, with clubs and sticks, banging them on the vehicle sides and shouting, “NEW EDOM NEVER SODOMITE! STAND FOR RIGHTEOUSNESS, BLASPHEMERS! REPENT, REPENT!”
City Militia had also shown up but for whatever reason appeared alarmed and fled back to their barracks.
Delphino Marcus, a journalist for NENN news asked a militia officer why his units were falling back, and the nervous officer, sweating, said, “We have reports that there are going to be epidemics of sodomy throughout the city. It’s all a guise for a homofront attack. We are not armed enough for this; we have been ordered back. Beware, Christ help us, mass sodomy will fall upon us!”
As the crowds gathered around embassy row and the handsome corporate buildings in the foreign district, suddenly it began to come to a halt as people pressed in from another direction. Cloris and her friends clustered together, trying not to lose sight of one another; she gripped Ayesha’s hand almost painfully tight. The press of the crowd became ever more panicked as a growing number of people worried more about getting away from the crush than they were of continuing the demonstration. Clouds were billowing from the Palace of Justice.that Cloris later learnt had come from tear gas canisters. The flow of public text messages she was receiving on her mobile phone were becoming increasingly hysterical.
"They're firing on protestors near Betharan Palace," said Ayesha, her voice tight. "That's what it says here."
"It's not bullets, though," said Mark, checking his own phone. "They're using water cannon."
"That's not right," said Jorin. "That's not right. There are politicians, pop stars, comedians and camera crews there."
"It's bad enough here as it is!" said Cloris as she held her mobile phone up in front of her face as she couldn't straighten out her arms to hold it anywhere else.
When the pressure from the crowd relaxed, it was as the demonstration was beginning to fall apart. It didn't happen all at once. The crowd just became progressively less organised. Then it fragmented sufficiently to allow Iris to see what was actually going on. It all broke like a wave. Soldiers and police were waving batons at fleeing protestors. One protestor was battered on the head and chest by a baton as he lay in a foetal crouch on the ground. Smoke was still billowing out of the area around the Palace of Justice and nothing could be seen through the engulfing whiteness other than the faint shadows of memorials and protestors. Escaping along with the smoke were protestors who held scarves, handkerchiefs and other types of cloth up against their mouths. Horses were trotting backwards and forwards with mounted police on their backs as they attempted to disperse the crowd. Horses and men alike wore gas masks, giving them a sinister insect appearance. Some of the protestors had turned to rioting. The rioters were throwing stones, bricks and railings at the police and soldiers and aggravated an already dangerous situation. Smoke continued to float over the crowd. Cars were overturned. Projectiles were thrown at the statues of David the Lawgiver and Adah the Liberator.
“Brothers, brothers, we are brothers in Christ!” cried a group of the ecumenicals, waving their signs and holding up their crosses.
“Oh Christ, not again,” said Mark, and involuntarily sprayed urine down his leg, unnoticed in his fear. The friends clutched at one another. An orange-vest backed up nearby and was crying out, “Link arms, everyone, link arms!”
"Let's get the fuck out of here!" shouted Gloria, one of their other friends, her eyes wide with alarm.
"Was that the sound of gunfire?" asked Mark who stood paralysed in indecision.
“It was. Where's it coming from? Wherever it is, that's where we're not going." Cloris stammered. They were being shoved this way and that--by people trying to join the defensive line, by others rushing up to throw bricks and rocks, by people running.
"We can't go forward," said Ayesha. "We can't go backward. We can't go over the bridge. So, I guess that's the only way we can go."
"This is a fucking nightmare!" said Cloris.
"Can we trust the police?" asked Jorin. "Are they going to arrest us and put us in cells and interrogate us? Are we going to be tortured?"
There were more sounds of gunfire and a sudden rush of mounted police: this time supported by soldiers wearing riot gear normally worn by police. Three or four helicopters were swooping over embassy rowand one dropped a huge metal net catching a group of twenty or thirty protesters. And then, behind them, a line of armoured vehicles with thick huge wheels rumbled forward.
"Quick!" screamed Mark. "Get moving. Run!"
Those who ran were permitted to flee, though here and there militia and soldiers would grab some, either beating them brutally to the pavement or grabbing them and hauling them into vans. Many others were permitted to flee. Those who stood and tried to pacifictically protest were all beaten or arrested; those who tried to fight were all shot. Those who tried to use vehicles or buildings as shelters were fired on with autocannon, grenade launchers and even a few missiles, though someone heard an officer yelling,
“Idiots! Do you know how much anti-tank missiles cost? Use grenades, you damned fools!”
Protesters ran to the nearest embassies or foreign businesses. Profile Incorporated, United Mailing Services, the Civic Bank of Avantine, as well as the Adiran, Shrailleeni, Garzan, McNernian, Shalumite, Ghantish, Nakad, Kylarnatian, Netorarian and other embassies had their doors approached by groups of panicked people, who if not prevented from doing so would desperately pound on the doors begging for help and asylum.
