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[TAP]ThatAsianPlayer
Friendly Radical LDP (totally not anarchist)
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Republic Calandar: Year 36 of the Eisho Era
Planet: Nuevo Hassan (Rixian)
City: Reunion, Federal Legislature Complex
The Federal Republic, which was the real only official title with the name Huzar, Hassan, and the likes interchanged. It is a country of vast differences and paradoxes. Yet for some reason, the entire system functions and works. Though the system was flawed, the idea of there is only better holds high. The nation had various ideas and methods to debate and make use of. The location of this grand experiment is the Federal Legislature Complex on Reunion on the planet of Nuevo Hassan(alternate name: Rixian). The first home of the government of the Republic, where half of the bureaucracy is done and also where the majority of the elected government stays.
As such this complex spans a huge part of the city Reunion. With multiple buildings streets and places to go from and be at. At the entrance of the complex stands a statue, of the hero-president. The founder of the Republic, Gabriel Yusef Rixin Zhang y Ramos. The revolutionary who had toiled and would end up forming the Federal Republic. He was at the very entrance of the complex, greeting everyone who comes into the complex; rich or poor, politician or citizen. On his right hand, a pen lifted up pointing upwards, on the left, a book, and on him were weapons he had used. The idealist, the dreamer, the pragmatist, and the realist all into one body. Who welcomes all into the halls of debate.
As such it is fitting how every time a protest happens he greets them at the gates of the Republican Democracy. Perhaps challenging them or welcoming them to the streets of the complex in order to protest. Behind such a statute, the riot police prepared against the protesters that they were about to confront.
This was normal for many of the police officers, and veterans of multiple riots. Granted there were some newbies to the riot police but this protest compared to previous ones isn't as bad. The protesters were familiar faces in the Republic; militants, students, and all sorts of people from society just to make their point clear. Strikers were also present but it was one of those times when not everyone decided to go on strike again, lucky for the government.
Yet despite all of this, I think there was a mistake in picking this profession. Ran the mind of a journalist sitting from afar on a spot often used by the media and journalists alike when covering protests in front of the halls of government. This was the same position these journalists would camp out at during important sessions and the likes of Congress were ongoing. Apparently, the legend goes to some smart ass from one of the big media companies who managed to sneak in some dirt in order to pile it up high enough to create this place. That or the architects intentionally planned it. Either way, it was the spot to be when it came to getting good photos from afar and starting reports.
This was exactly the profession I somehow got stuck in…. expressed the mood of a man wearing a green jacket, blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and camera equipment on him. He was part of the company that collected images and sold them to major publications and news networks. Luckily he wasn’t assigned to get into the protesting crowd yet, someone else got unlucky enough to have to wear the white “Press” helmet in the riot. Though it was admittedly still a shitty situation, having to deal with the rain, morning fog not to mention the borderline spartan-like conditions of the media camp. It was truly a warzone of its own and in this case, being part of the media means you're in between the firing line. Neither police nor the protestor is your friend, you’re most likely going to get your face punched in. But hey it brought in the dough so shut it, all you need to do is keep low and take photos after all.
Taking out a vape for a moment he would look at it, asking why the hell did he even accept this gift from a fellow photographer who pretty much just does surveys and nice picture shit rather than this nitty gritty. At this point, he just questions why he was even there before a name was called out to him. “Singson! So how’s it been working for the Press League?”
That voice sounded familiar enough, it was that writer and journalist Bauhman. Ritz Bauhman was that stereotypical journo who basically wrote what he wanted and dressed like the guy who hasn’t left the days of early industrialization, wearing his trench coat, fedora, and suit despite all the shitty conditions journalists had to put up with.
“Hm doing fine Ritz, how about you, see you haven’t dropped your class at all even with the shitty conditions.” The man Singson would reply to the much more lively gentlemen.
“Oh, you know still writing articles here and there and making opinion pieces.” The gentleman would reply. “
Yeah…and you’re still trying so hard to be uncontroversial, how’s that been going.” A pause and a wheeze would be heard soon after.
“Well, so long as it makes the money and keeps the readers happy that’s what I’m here for.” Ritz would reply.
“This is why I avoid the columnist and opinion page. I swear to god you lot give me the headaches of a lifetime.” Singson would sigh as he would look into his camera momentarily, looking from afar at the protesters gathering on the grounds outside the Federal Legislature Complex. They haven’t moved in yet to confront the police nor have the police decided to confront them yet. There was a clear line divide and soon enough he’d take a shot at it.
“Hey it pays, and it pays well. Either way, you should try it one time. So are they on the move yet?” Ritz would ask. “After all you’ve got the radio to talk with the poor man in there now.”
“Nothing yet and he hasn’t bothered to radio in either. So far, nothing has begun yet.” Singson would say as he placed down the camera and would stretch his arms.
“Well, then I guess I’ll have to go down there myself, get me one of those white helmets or maybe blue. Oh well, I’ll send you any photos I deem seem nice. Enjoy camping.” Ritz would say as he would soon walk away.
Finally some silence once more. Soon enough Singson would look back into the camera, taking a good look from his lens at the situation on the ground. Examining the compositions of the protestors and the police. Both were almost fairly militant but of course, the police would still have the better-standardized gear. However, that was not to say the protestors had no equipment of their own that was on an equal level. After all, a well-protected one would have some hard hat on, a mask, and some thick clothes, and that was enough to act as armor for them. There were also the various flags they carried and the banners as well.
Observing from afar one could tell it wasn’t the mainstream political groups but rather the various organized somewhat fringe political groups mainly stemming from the more populist forces of the left-wing, mainly from the Liga Communas Populares alongside their political allies. Supposedly the vanguard of a more equal future not to mention just one, it was admittedly strange for them to protest the upcoming session of the senate due to the fact they do have a voice in it. However strange it was, it wasn’t out of their nature though.
Having seen how the left has operated for a time, there was a fair consensus amongst the many left organizations that the upcoming war and intervention into the system of Everan was something that they were vocal about not joining. Rather fearing for the possible use of military contingencies and whatnot to please the more militant warhawk parts of society. Even a possible draft wasn’t out of the question yet as such they had to question these policies for it was typically their thing to do so.
Though it was ironic for them to be against a war that can be justified as one of saving a group of people from possible extinction. For them, a just war pretty much only means to be a just war if their party line permits it perhaps. After all, they were always set against the government and its policies, being the literal embodiment of the opposition even if they were as politically hungry as those who were in power. In some cynical sense, they were only protesting in order to get the public’s attention perhaps. After all, in some sense they were supposedly for this war…if it wasn’t for the fact it was endorsed by the government they so hated that they were willing to put an entire species on the line just to remain opposed to the government.
One of their prominent leaders was admittedly visible from the position Singson was at, Reuben Alejandro, the student leader who was demanding the government to reply to the questions the left had for them. He was effectively a Liga mouthpiece through and through and has been known to be arrested multiple times. It will be a wonder if he doesn’t get arrested today. He was leading the folks with the megaphones and banners asking the questions of “WHAT MORE, WHY SHOULD WE PAY WITH OUR LIVES ONCE MORE! HOW MANY MORE!” and other protesting slogans used in prior protests and ongoing protests. Some signs demanded the step down of the government and others demanded a revolutionary collective state. Either way, they were the types to definitely get in harm's way due to the state seeing them as a threat to its existence but not necessarily something fully capable yet to destroy it. From this point of view, Singson had, he was sure to keep an eye on Alejandro and take photos of him when he could.
On the other side was the picket line, standing strong and tall. 3 rows of riot police of various backgrounds. While their captain was standing on an elevated platform to observe and see things entirely. Their goal was to keep the protesters out of the proper grounds of the complex. This Captain, Abelard Allard knew riot control like it was something he understood and lived through his entire life. Having to deal with the worse types even before the founding of the Republic as a young cop. Now, he stands tall on a platform thinking about what to do. The protesters were approaching and would need to be contained not necessarily pushed out. It would only take a couple of minutes that would have felt like seconds before the protesters were already face to face with the cops. But they all knew that they wouldn’t engage unless it became violent. The back of their shields which they always face have the big yellow words “EXERCISE MAXIMUM TOLERANCE” in perhaps a hope that the police would do so.
Taking photos of both sides was relatively easy from this height. It’s also why many of the live media coverage folks would like to keep using this place when it came to protests. However soon enough as the protesters would begin closing the gap the tension in the area was looming. Police and protesters face to face. The picket line no longer being a fence but rather a wall that prevents the overwhelming force of the people from smashing into the compound of the elected government. It was a scene familiar yet always awe-striking from a distance, to see such two collective forces face off not in bloody battle but in what amounted to the brinksmanship of each other’s side.
Zooming in Singson could see his fellow journalist buddy caught up in the wave of protesters. Taking photos from within the crowd and wearing his white helmet with the label “Press” on it. He would take one shot of his colleague before beginning to focus on the riot police, their actions always as militant as ever. It was unfortunate to some extent but also fortunate to have such a force that was capable. The issue was only the real difference between policing and the military and so far the Federal Police have been struggling to distinguish the two at multiple levels. Today might just become an example of that struggle once more. But who knows? Maybe they wouldn’t be as brutal today either.
Soon, the first bangs would be heard. Even from afar the noise of rocks and batons banging onto things could be heard. Like hard rain upon a roof, they would smash and crack making the noises heard. It wouldn’t take long from the agitation that had begun to soon enough provoke the police to act.
The back row, readying themselves would soon prepare to launch their tear gas. It would only take a moment before the familiar popping sound of a grenade launcher could be heard. The tear gas has been launched. Flying right into the air, their smoke trailing from where they came from to the position they would land at. Spreading the fumes that would make someone suffocate and tear up in reaction to the power of the gas. Those who came ready had begun wearing their masks and goggles. Many were here for the long hull and they were not going to be pushed back. Not this time at least. As the tear gas would land, some would hit the heads of protesters wearing helmets or not and once they’ve landed, those experienced would use anything bowl shape to cover the canister, preventing it from becoming a hazard too much. Protesters would begin chanting anti-war slogans more in their various languages. Becoming ever more agitated some would kick or punch against the cops. They were going to prove a point today if it was the last thing many of them would do.
Then the whistle sounded. The riot police would soon enter into a testudo formation, advancing steadily as the protesters would begin throwing more rocks and other things at the cops. Some who brought petrol bombs were considering using them. But the student leader Reuben would tell them to not, for it would escalate the situation too fast. Right now both sides were wearing out one another. Eventually, Abelard would soon give the command to a unit specialized in pushing back rioters to advance, the formation giving them space as they would charge into the protesters now rioters to grab agitators and bring them back into the line. This was the regular cat and mouse game both sides knew how to play. One side advances before the other begin to advance back. It was two waves crashing upon each other, seeing who was the strongest.
It wouldn’t take long before a second row of tear gas would be launched in an attempt to push them back. As that second row popped off, a radio chatter would be heard on Singson’s jacket. “Shit I’ve been hit!” it was the colleague down with the protesters, his helmet must’ve been damaged. “Singson, you hear me?! I’m coming back there, switch with me, get a helmet on!” He would say as he would cut off, this was normal for cameramen to switch places once hurt. He didn’t even question it and would run inside one of the tents getting a gas mask and a helmet with the words “Press” on it before he ran towards the protest. On the streets, he would meet up with his buddy who was being escorted by First Aiders who participated in the protest to the journalist camp. Now it was his turn to get into the mess.
Running into the street where the protesters were, both were akin to the level of medieval siege warfare if not ancient. Both sides threw whatever they could at the other if not running into one another and pushing each other back. Taking photos here was harder but it wasn’t too hard. Plus the papers loved a good riot photo and looks like Singson was going to give them a lot today. Taking photos of protesters with metal rebar sticks charging against the police as they would try to push the marching cops which have managed to successfully push back the protesters further away from the complex. It seemed the police were winning this battle.
Alejandro and the protesters that he lead part of the Liga would soon enough try and gather their folks together. Beginning to escalate things by leading the charges and throwing of rocks and other debris right at the riot police. They were beginning to be desperate, one of them asking why they can't throw the petrol bombs at the pigs. Alejandro would still heavily object as they hid behind shields that they brought for the protests. The situation was getting worse for the militant students as they were getting smoked out and warning shot at pretty darn hard not to mention the riot police that were charging into the protest line.
But then, someone decided to take things a bit further it seemed. A light is thrown into the air….a light being the light of a fire, a fireball racing down from an arch angle onto the riot police. Someone has decided to start using petrol bombs. The situation has certainly now escalated. As the glass shattered and fires burst, the police would step back for a moment as they would reorganize themselves. Collecting themselves as they almost got burnt, then the riot vehicle would arrive, a water gun-armed truck intentionally designed to be against rioters would soon rush up, pouring down water at such a strong pressure that the water would eliminate the fires immediately. Soon enough it would aim at the protesters still standing close and hose down upon them. Many protesters slipped on the ground as they were being washed away by the truck.
The militant students soon broke rank and ran away as well. Alejandro also ran away grabbing those injured with him as they desperately ran to avoid the cops. The protest for them was over and it was now time to get the hell out and back into the city where they would be safe. Abelard’s finest tactics are at play once more. But then again the students weren’t going to their full capability this time around. Today was just a trial for a bigger protest perhaps. But that has yet to be seen considering the possible increased security in the coming days that and the prevention of protesting soon to come.
Singson, well he was unfortunate enough to be one of those folks running away. Slipping on the ground as the water sprayed close enough to him. The gush of the water nearly being deafening as it would be pressurized enough as to irritate ears when the water hit the ground.
Soon enough, the protesters would start dispersing. Their protest was broken down again and pushed back into the city proper and away from the Federal Complex. It appeared the protest was dying down. With the use of more heavy-handed weapons, the protesters were no longer going to be the problem of the Federal Police for now but rather both Federal and city police. At the end of it all, it had begun dying down over the rest of the day and at last, the confrontation was done for the day.
What felt like an eternity, ended only in a couple of minutes once all was settled and all parties returned to where they were and dispersed. Luckily today wasn’t exactly the day the massive rallies would begin. This was just the hell to come for the two sides, while for journalists, something to write about and likely be forgotten as the possibility of war looms.
As the clearing had begun, Singson would go back to the press camp, exhausted and somewhat drenched. His camera was still fine though and he was going to be able to send his photos for use by the wider media. Walking back to his tent he would submit the camera to a fellow journalist who would begin transmitting the photos to the newspaper for the evening editions that were to be made tonight and given tomorrow. At last, the day was over.
Singson would soon lazily walk to the first aid tent. The location where his buddy was being held up. Laying down on the bed was the guy whose poor head got wacked by a tear gast cainster by accident. He was just moaning in pain occasionally as he would move his head. He was trying to fix himself up into position to see the television that was placed in the tent.
“Sup idiot, how you doing.” Singson would ask as he would drag a monobloc chair right beside the bed. Looking down to the fellow journalist who got his head bashed in.
“Ugh….go fuck yourself Singson, you know I do well in crowds.” The man would say as he was angrily trying to get back into comfort. Singson helping him up as he was trying to rest.
“Good at getting your ass shot up, that’s what you’re good at in crowds. I’m surprised you’re not fucking dead considering the literal tin can that bashed right in your helmet Nakarov. Seriously do you have any idea how much you’re going to be gone? Like for fucksakes I don’t want to do in-crowd shit.” Singson would rant at Nakarov.
“Oh quit your whining, it’s not like you got shot up 10 different times as I did, I guess this is the worse. I’m sure you’ll survive more considering you got out unharmed.” Nakarov would say as he’d punch Singson as a joke.
“Piss oh piss off I got harmed….well granted it was more of the pressurized water that was being sprayed earlier.” Singson would say presenting his drenched half.
Then right outside, the commotion would be heard, it appears that one of the big networks was setting up. The news reporter was one of the big shots, seems like the networks were taking this protest and occasion seriously. One by one they were preparing for the evening report in front of the Federal Legislature Complex. A good number of 10 networks or even more were setting up for their prime-time news reports.
“Hey…I think the networks are here.” Singson would say as he would take a peak at the tent’s door seeing the cameramen and lights. “Yep there here alright.”
“Which ones? National and the likes?” Nakarov would ask
“Yep…hey wanna do the thing of watching them while seeing what they are doing?” Singson would mention it as he would point to the television on one of the networks.
“Yeah sure let’s be those fucking jokers inside and see what fuck ups they’ll make while watching the real thing at the same time. I wonder if they’ll be using delayed broadcasts.” Nakarov would mention as he would position himself on the hospital bed to be able to see both the TV and the networks outside.
Soon enough the two would be watching and laughing over the networks and what the hell their staff were up to. For these photographers, their day was done and they were going to take a break for now. However to those who report the current events, there is no real rest per se. Just a break from all the noise being made.
Planet: Nuevo Hassan (Rixian)
City: Reunion, Federal Legislature Complex
The Federal Republic, which was the real only official title with the name Huzar, Hassan, and the likes interchanged. It is a country of vast differences and paradoxes. Yet for some reason, the entire system functions and works. Though the system was flawed, the idea of there is only better holds high. The nation had various ideas and methods to debate and make use of. The location of this grand experiment is the Federal Legislature Complex on Reunion on the planet of Nuevo Hassan(alternate name: Rixian). The first home of the government of the Republic, where half of the bureaucracy is done and also where the majority of the elected government stays.
As such this complex spans a huge part of the city Reunion. With multiple buildings streets and places to go from and be at. At the entrance of the complex stands a statue, of the hero-president. The founder of the Republic, Gabriel Yusef Rixin Zhang y Ramos. The revolutionary who had toiled and would end up forming the Federal Republic. He was at the very entrance of the complex, greeting everyone who comes into the complex; rich or poor, politician or citizen. On his right hand, a pen lifted up pointing upwards, on the left, a book, and on him were weapons he had used. The idealist, the dreamer, the pragmatist, and the realist all into one body. Who welcomes all into the halls of debate.
As such it is fitting how every time a protest happens he greets them at the gates of the Republican Democracy. Perhaps challenging them or welcoming them to the streets of the complex in order to protest. Behind such a statute, the riot police prepared against the protesters that they were about to confront.
This was normal for many of the police officers, and veterans of multiple riots. Granted there were some newbies to the riot police but this protest compared to previous ones isn't as bad. The protesters were familiar faces in the Republic; militants, students, and all sorts of people from society just to make their point clear. Strikers were also present but it was one of those times when not everyone decided to go on strike again, lucky for the government.
Yet despite all of this, I think there was a mistake in picking this profession. Ran the mind of a journalist sitting from afar on a spot often used by the media and journalists alike when covering protests in front of the halls of government. This was the same position these journalists would camp out at during important sessions and the likes of Congress were ongoing. Apparently, the legend goes to some smart ass from one of the big media companies who managed to sneak in some dirt in order to pile it up high enough to create this place. That or the architects intentionally planned it. Either way, it was the spot to be when it came to getting good photos from afar and starting reports.
This was exactly the profession I somehow got stuck in…. expressed the mood of a man wearing a green jacket, blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and camera equipment on him. He was part of the company that collected images and sold them to major publications and news networks. Luckily he wasn’t assigned to get into the protesting crowd yet, someone else got unlucky enough to have to wear the white “Press” helmet in the riot. Though it was admittedly still a shitty situation, having to deal with the rain, morning fog not to mention the borderline spartan-like conditions of the media camp. It was truly a warzone of its own and in this case, being part of the media means you're in between the firing line. Neither police nor the protestor is your friend, you’re most likely going to get your face punched in. But hey it brought in the dough so shut it, all you need to do is keep low and take photos after all.
Taking out a vape for a moment he would look at it, asking why the hell did he even accept this gift from a fellow photographer who pretty much just does surveys and nice picture shit rather than this nitty gritty. At this point, he just questions why he was even there before a name was called out to him. “Singson! So how’s it been working for the Press League?”
That voice sounded familiar enough, it was that writer and journalist Bauhman. Ritz Bauhman was that stereotypical journo who basically wrote what he wanted and dressed like the guy who hasn’t left the days of early industrialization, wearing his trench coat, fedora, and suit despite all the shitty conditions journalists had to put up with.
“Hm doing fine Ritz, how about you, see you haven’t dropped your class at all even with the shitty conditions.” The man Singson would reply to the much more lively gentlemen.
“Oh, you know still writing articles here and there and making opinion pieces.” The gentleman would reply. “
Yeah…and you’re still trying so hard to be uncontroversial, how’s that been going.” A pause and a wheeze would be heard soon after.
“Well, so long as it makes the money and keeps the readers happy that’s what I’m here for.” Ritz would reply.
“This is why I avoid the columnist and opinion page. I swear to god you lot give me the headaches of a lifetime.” Singson would sigh as he would look into his camera momentarily, looking from afar at the protesters gathering on the grounds outside the Federal Legislature Complex. They haven’t moved in yet to confront the police nor have the police decided to confront them yet. There was a clear line divide and soon enough he’d take a shot at it.
“Hey it pays, and it pays well. Either way, you should try it one time. So are they on the move yet?” Ritz would ask. “After all you’ve got the radio to talk with the poor man in there now.”
“Nothing yet and he hasn’t bothered to radio in either. So far, nothing has begun yet.” Singson would say as he placed down the camera and would stretch his arms.
“Well, then I guess I’ll have to go down there myself, get me one of those white helmets or maybe blue. Oh well, I’ll send you any photos I deem seem nice. Enjoy camping.” Ritz would say as he would soon walk away.
Finally some silence once more. Soon enough Singson would look back into the camera, taking a good look from his lens at the situation on the ground. Examining the compositions of the protestors and the police. Both were almost fairly militant but of course, the police would still have the better-standardized gear. However, that was not to say the protestors had no equipment of their own that was on an equal level. After all, a well-protected one would have some hard hat on, a mask, and some thick clothes, and that was enough to act as armor for them. There were also the various flags they carried and the banners as well.
Observing from afar one could tell it wasn’t the mainstream political groups but rather the various organized somewhat fringe political groups mainly stemming from the more populist forces of the left-wing, mainly from the Liga Communas Populares alongside their political allies. Supposedly the vanguard of a more equal future not to mention just one, it was admittedly strange for them to protest the upcoming session of the senate due to the fact they do have a voice in it. However strange it was, it wasn’t out of their nature though.
Having seen how the left has operated for a time, there was a fair consensus amongst the many left organizations that the upcoming war and intervention into the system of Everan was something that they were vocal about not joining. Rather fearing for the possible use of military contingencies and whatnot to please the more militant warhawk parts of society. Even a possible draft wasn’t out of the question yet as such they had to question these policies for it was typically their thing to do so.
Though it was ironic for them to be against a war that can be justified as one of saving a group of people from possible extinction. For them, a just war pretty much only means to be a just war if their party line permits it perhaps. After all, they were always set against the government and its policies, being the literal embodiment of the opposition even if they were as politically hungry as those who were in power. In some cynical sense, they were only protesting in order to get the public’s attention perhaps. After all, in some sense they were supposedly for this war…if it wasn’t for the fact it was endorsed by the government they so hated that they were willing to put an entire species on the line just to remain opposed to the government.
One of their prominent leaders was admittedly visible from the position Singson was at, Reuben Alejandro, the student leader who was demanding the government to reply to the questions the left had for them. He was effectively a Liga mouthpiece through and through and has been known to be arrested multiple times. It will be a wonder if he doesn’t get arrested today. He was leading the folks with the megaphones and banners asking the questions of “WHAT MORE, WHY SHOULD WE PAY WITH OUR LIVES ONCE MORE! HOW MANY MORE!” and other protesting slogans used in prior protests and ongoing protests. Some signs demanded the step down of the government and others demanded a revolutionary collective state. Either way, they were the types to definitely get in harm's way due to the state seeing them as a threat to its existence but not necessarily something fully capable yet to destroy it. From this point of view, Singson had, he was sure to keep an eye on Alejandro and take photos of him when he could.
On the other side was the picket line, standing strong and tall. 3 rows of riot police of various backgrounds. While their captain was standing on an elevated platform to observe and see things entirely. Their goal was to keep the protesters out of the proper grounds of the complex. This Captain, Abelard Allard knew riot control like it was something he understood and lived through his entire life. Having to deal with the worse types even before the founding of the Republic as a young cop. Now, he stands tall on a platform thinking about what to do. The protesters were approaching and would need to be contained not necessarily pushed out. It would only take a couple of minutes that would have felt like seconds before the protesters were already face to face with the cops. But they all knew that they wouldn’t engage unless it became violent. The back of their shields which they always face have the big yellow words “EXERCISE MAXIMUM TOLERANCE” in perhaps a hope that the police would do so.
Taking photos of both sides was relatively easy from this height. It’s also why many of the live media coverage folks would like to keep using this place when it came to protests. However soon enough as the protesters would begin closing the gap the tension in the area was looming. Police and protesters face to face. The picket line no longer being a fence but rather a wall that prevents the overwhelming force of the people from smashing into the compound of the elected government. It was a scene familiar yet always awe-striking from a distance, to see such two collective forces face off not in bloody battle but in what amounted to the brinksmanship of each other’s side.
Zooming in Singson could see his fellow journalist buddy caught up in the wave of protesters. Taking photos from within the crowd and wearing his white helmet with the label “Press” on it. He would take one shot of his colleague before beginning to focus on the riot police, their actions always as militant as ever. It was unfortunate to some extent but also fortunate to have such a force that was capable. The issue was only the real difference between policing and the military and so far the Federal Police have been struggling to distinguish the two at multiple levels. Today might just become an example of that struggle once more. But who knows? Maybe they wouldn’t be as brutal today either.
Soon, the first bangs would be heard. Even from afar the noise of rocks and batons banging onto things could be heard. Like hard rain upon a roof, they would smash and crack making the noises heard. It wouldn’t take long from the agitation that had begun to soon enough provoke the police to act.
The back row, readying themselves would soon prepare to launch their tear gas. It would only take a moment before the familiar popping sound of a grenade launcher could be heard. The tear gas has been launched. Flying right into the air, their smoke trailing from where they came from to the position they would land at. Spreading the fumes that would make someone suffocate and tear up in reaction to the power of the gas. Those who came ready had begun wearing their masks and goggles. Many were here for the long hull and they were not going to be pushed back. Not this time at least. As the tear gas would land, some would hit the heads of protesters wearing helmets or not and once they’ve landed, those experienced would use anything bowl shape to cover the canister, preventing it from becoming a hazard too much. Protesters would begin chanting anti-war slogans more in their various languages. Becoming ever more agitated some would kick or punch against the cops. They were going to prove a point today if it was the last thing many of them would do.
Then the whistle sounded. The riot police would soon enter into a testudo formation, advancing steadily as the protesters would begin throwing more rocks and other things at the cops. Some who brought petrol bombs were considering using them. But the student leader Reuben would tell them to not, for it would escalate the situation too fast. Right now both sides were wearing out one another. Eventually, Abelard would soon give the command to a unit specialized in pushing back rioters to advance, the formation giving them space as they would charge into the protesters now rioters to grab agitators and bring them back into the line. This was the regular cat and mouse game both sides knew how to play. One side advances before the other begin to advance back. It was two waves crashing upon each other, seeing who was the strongest.
It wouldn’t take long before a second row of tear gas would be launched in an attempt to push them back. As that second row popped off, a radio chatter would be heard on Singson’s jacket. “Shit I’ve been hit!” it was the colleague down with the protesters, his helmet must’ve been damaged. “Singson, you hear me?! I’m coming back there, switch with me, get a helmet on!” He would say as he would cut off, this was normal for cameramen to switch places once hurt. He didn’t even question it and would run inside one of the tents getting a gas mask and a helmet with the words “Press” on it before he ran towards the protest. On the streets, he would meet up with his buddy who was being escorted by First Aiders who participated in the protest to the journalist camp. Now it was his turn to get into the mess.
Running into the street where the protesters were, both were akin to the level of medieval siege warfare if not ancient. Both sides threw whatever they could at the other if not running into one another and pushing each other back. Taking photos here was harder but it wasn’t too hard. Plus the papers loved a good riot photo and looks like Singson was going to give them a lot today. Taking photos of protesters with metal rebar sticks charging against the police as they would try to push the marching cops which have managed to successfully push back the protesters further away from the complex. It seemed the police were winning this battle.
Alejandro and the protesters that he lead part of the Liga would soon enough try and gather their folks together. Beginning to escalate things by leading the charges and throwing of rocks and other debris right at the riot police. They were beginning to be desperate, one of them asking why they can't throw the petrol bombs at the pigs. Alejandro would still heavily object as they hid behind shields that they brought for the protests. The situation was getting worse for the militant students as they were getting smoked out and warning shot at pretty darn hard not to mention the riot police that were charging into the protest line.
But then, someone decided to take things a bit further it seemed. A light is thrown into the air….a light being the light of a fire, a fireball racing down from an arch angle onto the riot police. Someone has decided to start using petrol bombs. The situation has certainly now escalated. As the glass shattered and fires burst, the police would step back for a moment as they would reorganize themselves. Collecting themselves as they almost got burnt, then the riot vehicle would arrive, a water gun-armed truck intentionally designed to be against rioters would soon rush up, pouring down water at such a strong pressure that the water would eliminate the fires immediately. Soon enough it would aim at the protesters still standing close and hose down upon them. Many protesters slipped on the ground as they were being washed away by the truck.
The militant students soon broke rank and ran away as well. Alejandro also ran away grabbing those injured with him as they desperately ran to avoid the cops. The protest for them was over and it was now time to get the hell out and back into the city where they would be safe. Abelard’s finest tactics are at play once more. But then again the students weren’t going to their full capability this time around. Today was just a trial for a bigger protest perhaps. But that has yet to be seen considering the possible increased security in the coming days that and the prevention of protesting soon to come.
Singson, well he was unfortunate enough to be one of those folks running away. Slipping on the ground as the water sprayed close enough to him. The gush of the water nearly being deafening as it would be pressurized enough as to irritate ears when the water hit the ground.
Soon enough, the protesters would start dispersing. Their protest was broken down again and pushed back into the city proper and away from the Federal Complex. It appeared the protest was dying down. With the use of more heavy-handed weapons, the protesters were no longer going to be the problem of the Federal Police for now but rather both Federal and city police. At the end of it all, it had begun dying down over the rest of the day and at last, the confrontation was done for the day.
What felt like an eternity, ended only in a couple of minutes once all was settled and all parties returned to where they were and dispersed. Luckily today wasn’t exactly the day the massive rallies would begin. This was just the hell to come for the two sides, while for journalists, something to write about and likely be forgotten as the possibility of war looms.
As the clearing had begun, Singson would go back to the press camp, exhausted and somewhat drenched. His camera was still fine though and he was going to be able to send his photos for use by the wider media. Walking back to his tent he would submit the camera to a fellow journalist who would begin transmitting the photos to the newspaper for the evening editions that were to be made tonight and given tomorrow. At last, the day was over.
Singson would soon lazily walk to the first aid tent. The location where his buddy was being held up. Laying down on the bed was the guy whose poor head got wacked by a tear gast cainster by accident. He was just moaning in pain occasionally as he would move his head. He was trying to fix himself up into position to see the television that was placed in the tent.
“Sup idiot, how you doing.” Singson would ask as he would drag a monobloc chair right beside the bed. Looking down to the fellow journalist who got his head bashed in.
“Ugh….go fuck yourself Singson, you know I do well in crowds.” The man would say as he was angrily trying to get back into comfort. Singson helping him up as he was trying to rest.
“Good at getting your ass shot up, that’s what you’re good at in crowds. I’m surprised you’re not fucking dead considering the literal tin can that bashed right in your helmet Nakarov. Seriously do you have any idea how much you’re going to be gone? Like for fucksakes I don’t want to do in-crowd shit.” Singson would rant at Nakarov.
“Oh quit your whining, it’s not like you got shot up 10 different times as I did, I guess this is the worse. I’m sure you’ll survive more considering you got out unharmed.” Nakarov would say as he’d punch Singson as a joke.
“Piss oh piss off I got harmed….well granted it was more of the pressurized water that was being sprayed earlier.” Singson would say presenting his drenched half.
Then right outside, the commotion would be heard, it appears that one of the big networks was setting up. The news reporter was one of the big shots, seems like the networks were taking this protest and occasion seriously. One by one they were preparing for the evening report in front of the Federal Legislature Complex. A good number of 10 networks or even more were setting up for their prime-time news reports.
“Hey…I think the networks are here.” Singson would say as he would take a peak at the tent’s door seeing the cameramen and lights. “Yep there here alright.”
“Which ones? National and the likes?” Nakarov would ask
“Yep…hey wanna do the thing of watching them while seeing what they are doing?” Singson would mention it as he would point to the television on one of the networks.
“Yeah sure let’s be those fucking jokers inside and see what fuck ups they’ll make while watching the real thing at the same time. I wonder if they’ll be using delayed broadcasts.” Nakarov would mention as he would position himself on the hospital bed to be able to see both the TV and the networks outside.
Soon enough the two would be watching and laughing over the networks and what the hell their staff were up to. For these photographers, their day was done and they were going to take a break for now. However to those who report the current events, there is no real rest per se. Just a break from all the noise being made.