Sashataakheru (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wolfanfics) wrote2006-11-08 11:43 pm
wolfanfics) wrote2006-11-08 11:43 pm
I actually wrote something today!
Warning: things are not getting prettier. Mentions (and semi-graphic descriptions) of torture, abuse, and other such painful things. Read on if that's not going to bother you.
THis is what happens when I wash dishes. I get ideas like this. XD
And now we skip to after the meeting because I got bored with all the stupid discussion and shit and yeah. I’ll add it in if I think of it later, but yeah.
Things are discussed, they decide to make a final strike against the State and the plot to overthrow the Government is born. Yay for them.
See, that was more interesting (and shorter) than pages of boring discussion and argument I couldn’t be bothered writing. I planned on writing it, but well, I just couldn’t be fucked.
After the meeting in TGH
Hamish was walking towards the city, hoping to get in contact with some of his friends who could get them weapons after discussions at the arena had agreed that it was time to prepare for one final assault, one last ditch attempt at fighting back at the State before they were all wiped out for good. Hamish hadn’t been there, but Adam had sent him out once he’d arrived back home. The streets were surprisingly empty, and as he approached the main street, the noise told him what was going on. It was another one of the Government’s prisoner parades, where rebels, traitors and anyone the Government wanted to shun were made to crawl ontheir hands and knees, leashed and naked, along the street for the people, to hammer home obedience and loyalty.
Hamish pushed his way through the crowds to see who was being paraded in case it was someone they knew. Just as he got to the front of the crowd, a hand grabbed his arm hard, pulling him back out of the crowd. Hamish found himself standing opposite a couple of the military police officers. A chill of fear ran down his spine.
“You, you got ID, sir?” one of them said to him.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Hamish said, scrambling to find his ID card. They must be checking to make sure there’s no one here who’ll disrupt things. He pulled the card out of his wallet and handed it over to the cops. He waited nervously as they fed the card into a reader. Who knew what was on there? Did they know about Adam? And Tim? Two winged humans he would die to protect who had been living with him at his home for a while now? Things were getting scary and Hamish didn’t like it at all, and he didn’t even have wings.
“Press your palm against the pad, please sir,” the cop said.
Hamish obliged, pressing his right hand against the reader. It would take accurate finger prints and match them against the data on his card. If they matched, he was safe. For the moment. Not that he had any reason to fear they wouldn’t match, but the level of corruption in authority was impossible to detect. The people could do nothing to fight back if they were falsely accused or mistaken for someone else.
Hamish breathed a sigh of relief as the reader indeed matched his prints with those on the card. “Is that all, officers?” Hamish said, wanting to see what was going on with the parade.
“Prick your finger against the reader here. Just checking your DNA matches, sir,” the cop said.
Hamish wanted to curse at the continued tests, but knew that arguing against it would only invite trouble. He pricked his finger as ordered, letting a few drops of blood fall onto the testing area. In a few moments, the reader gave a positive test, matching the DNA in his blood and the DNA on his card.
“There you go. Your card back, sir. Keep out of trouble,” the cop said, handing his card back.
Hamish took his card and shoved it back into his wallet, watching the cops wander off again, looking for anyone else who might look suspicious. With the cops out of the way, Hamish again pushed through the crowd to see what was going on. He hated watching these, but this one really hit a nerve. Just as he got to the barricade, one of the prisoners looked familiar. He recognised that body, his wings brutally torn from him. Sepulchre, broken and bleeding, one of the bravest warriors the winged humans had ever known, being made to crawl down the road as if he was a pet. The soldier holding his leash had a stick in one hand that he used to hit him with if he fell, or even if he just felt like it.
In all the noise of the crowd, all Hamish heard was silence. It took a few seconds for the initial shock to settle before he had enough sense to message Adam on his phone. ‘Adam. TV. Now. It’s Seb.’ Seb was a nickname for Sepulchre; Adam’s pet name for Sepulchre. Hamish didn’t trust himself to say anything more. Adam needed to know about this. Hamish knew how close they were and how upset Adam had been when he heard about his arrest.
Hamish remained pressed against the barrier, staring at Seb being marched down the road in shock. He tried to catch Seb’s eye, but to no avail. Seb knew his fate, which made it all the more painful to watch.
The parade was long gone from the street before Hamish even attempted walking home again, his mind filled with all sorts of horror, thoughts about watching, not Seb, but Adam being paraded down the road, his wings ripped form him, beated, kicked, abused, being led down the road to die.
For most humans, parades like that were a spectacle, strange creatures they’ve never met being paraded and abused for their own enjoyment, fostering hatred and loyalty to the State. But for Hamish, human as he was, these parades left him with nightmares, filled him with anger and horror that his fellow countrymen could allow this sort of thing to happen. Knowing some of the winged humans, being in love with a winged human, changed things so dramatically Hamish couldn’t bear to watch these disgusting spectacles without a deep sense of hatred, dread and fear.
*
Adam had to read Hamish’s message several times before he turned the TV on. There, before him, one of their beloved leaders, one of the few people Adam kept close to his heart, being paraded around like a dog. The shock was too much. Adam found himself frozen. The horror, the senseless humiliation, the anger, it was the final straw. Arresting Seb was one thing, parading him like that was quite another.
Adam and Seb had known each other for years. Adam was one of the privileged few to know Seb as a person, winged as he was, away from the rebellion, back when it was still safe to be out on the streets, back when you could be yourself and now worry about vanishing during the night. Long before Hamish was around, long before the winged humans were hunted down like dogs, Adam and Seb had been lovers, and those ties were as strong as they ever were. Having to watch him crawling on the road, being kicked until he started crawling again whenever he fell down, looking so utterly broken and abused, it was the worst torture imaginable. Hamish didn’t know about Adam and Seb, Adam felt it was better that way. Adam was content to have Hamish believe they were just old friends. But he’d have to tell him now. There was no way of explaining how much it hurt watching him suffer like that without mentioning how close they had been.
Adam watched, unable to look away, hearing Seb’s voice so soft and delicate, whispering to him all those years ago, a voice that was now tinged with pain, with anger, still defiant to his last breath. His memories were so at odds with what he was seeing now. The cameras delighted in zooming in on his injuries, showing the people watching at home all the cuts and bruises covering his skin.
Adam had to look away when they showed close-ups of Seb’s wing stubs. His knees collapsed under him, sending him to the floor. He cried into his hands, feeling utterly helpless. The sight was too much. They were still bleeding, too, broken bone protruding from the remaining feathers. The jeers from the crowd stabbed at him. He hated this Government so much. To treat a human being like that… it was monstrous. And he thought some of the stories he’d heard from China were bad. Australia had once again demonstrated it wanted to win at everything, even in tyrannical dictatorships. He was about to turn it off when Tim emerged from the bathroom, wings gleaming in the light.
“What’s all that noise? Another one of those parades?” Tim said, walking up to Adam. He glanced down at him, seeing how upset he was. “You alright, mate?”
“It’s Seb,” Adam whispered, peering through his fingers at the horror on the TV.
“No fucking way. What have they done to him? How can they do this? How can the world not know about this?” Tim said, unable to believe what he was seeing.
“I can’t bear to watch our kind suffering any longer. This has to stop. We have to do something before they wipe us all out,” Adam said.
Tim knelt behind him, bringing him into a tight hug. No words could help ease Adam’s pain. It was times like these that felt the most depressing, when the world attacked and wounded you enough to break you but not kill you. Adam’s wings curled around him, offering some semblance of comfort. He wasn’t just watching his leader die; that was one of his oldest and best friends, and one of his lovers. The pain was inexplicable. Adam felt as if he was feeling every wound Seb had. Even his wings ached. No one would blame him for crying.
*
Hamish arrived home and went straight to Adam still curled into Tim’s arms. Tim pulled back, letting Hamish take over. Hamish turned the TV off and sat in front of Adam, grabbing his arms firmly. He knew he could never fully comprehend what Adam was going through, but he’d do his best. Hamish searched his eyes, desperate to see some sign of life in there.
“Hamish. Hamish it was-” Adam whispered, unable to finish the sentence.
“I know, I know, I saw it,” Hamish said softly, bringing Adam into his arms.
Adam held him tightly, wishing today had never happened. His wings curled around them both, Hamish shivering at the soft feathers brushing his face. Adam couldn’t bring himself to speak anymore. It was all too hard to speak.
THis is what happens when I wash dishes. I get ideas like this. XD
And now we skip to after the meeting because I got bored with all the stupid discussion and shit and yeah. I’ll add it in if I think of it later, but yeah.
Things are discussed, they decide to make a final strike against the State and the plot to overthrow the Government is born. Yay for them.
See, that was more interesting (and shorter) than pages of boring discussion and argument I couldn’t be bothered writing. I planned on writing it, but well, I just couldn’t be fucked.
After the meeting in TGH
Hamish was walking towards the city, hoping to get in contact with some of his friends who could get them weapons after discussions at the arena had agreed that it was time to prepare for one final assault, one last ditch attempt at fighting back at the State before they were all wiped out for good. Hamish hadn’t been there, but Adam had sent him out once he’d arrived back home. The streets were surprisingly empty, and as he approached the main street, the noise told him what was going on. It was another one of the Government’s prisoner parades, where rebels, traitors and anyone the Government wanted to shun were made to crawl ontheir hands and knees, leashed and naked, along the street for the people, to hammer home obedience and loyalty.
Hamish pushed his way through the crowds to see who was being paraded in case it was someone they knew. Just as he got to the front of the crowd, a hand grabbed his arm hard, pulling him back out of the crowd. Hamish found himself standing opposite a couple of the military police officers. A chill of fear ran down his spine.
“You, you got ID, sir?” one of them said to him.
“Oh, yeah, of course,” Hamish said, scrambling to find his ID card. They must be checking to make sure there’s no one here who’ll disrupt things. He pulled the card out of his wallet and handed it over to the cops. He waited nervously as they fed the card into a reader. Who knew what was on there? Did they know about Adam? And Tim? Two winged humans he would die to protect who had been living with him at his home for a while now? Things were getting scary and Hamish didn’t like it at all, and he didn’t even have wings.
“Press your palm against the pad, please sir,” the cop said.
Hamish obliged, pressing his right hand against the reader. It would take accurate finger prints and match them against the data on his card. If they matched, he was safe. For the moment. Not that he had any reason to fear they wouldn’t match, but the level of corruption in authority was impossible to detect. The people could do nothing to fight back if they were falsely accused or mistaken for someone else.
Hamish breathed a sigh of relief as the reader indeed matched his prints with those on the card. “Is that all, officers?” Hamish said, wanting to see what was going on with the parade.
“Prick your finger against the reader here. Just checking your DNA matches, sir,” the cop said.
Hamish wanted to curse at the continued tests, but knew that arguing against it would only invite trouble. He pricked his finger as ordered, letting a few drops of blood fall onto the testing area. In a few moments, the reader gave a positive test, matching the DNA in his blood and the DNA on his card.
“There you go. Your card back, sir. Keep out of trouble,” the cop said, handing his card back.
Hamish took his card and shoved it back into his wallet, watching the cops wander off again, looking for anyone else who might look suspicious. With the cops out of the way, Hamish again pushed through the crowd to see what was going on. He hated watching these, but this one really hit a nerve. Just as he got to the barricade, one of the prisoners looked familiar. He recognised that body, his wings brutally torn from him. Sepulchre, broken and bleeding, one of the bravest warriors the winged humans had ever known, being made to crawl down the road as if he was a pet. The soldier holding his leash had a stick in one hand that he used to hit him with if he fell, or even if he just felt like it.
In all the noise of the crowd, all Hamish heard was silence. It took a few seconds for the initial shock to settle before he had enough sense to message Adam on his phone. ‘Adam. TV. Now. It’s Seb.’ Seb was a nickname for Sepulchre; Adam’s pet name for Sepulchre. Hamish didn’t trust himself to say anything more. Adam needed to know about this. Hamish knew how close they were and how upset Adam had been when he heard about his arrest.
Hamish remained pressed against the barrier, staring at Seb being marched down the road in shock. He tried to catch Seb’s eye, but to no avail. Seb knew his fate, which made it all the more painful to watch.
The parade was long gone from the street before Hamish even attempted walking home again, his mind filled with all sorts of horror, thoughts about watching, not Seb, but Adam being paraded down the road, his wings ripped form him, beated, kicked, abused, being led down the road to die.
For most humans, parades like that were a spectacle, strange creatures they’ve never met being paraded and abused for their own enjoyment, fostering hatred and loyalty to the State. But for Hamish, human as he was, these parades left him with nightmares, filled him with anger and horror that his fellow countrymen could allow this sort of thing to happen. Knowing some of the winged humans, being in love with a winged human, changed things so dramatically Hamish couldn’t bear to watch these disgusting spectacles without a deep sense of hatred, dread and fear.
*
Adam had to read Hamish’s message several times before he turned the TV on. There, before him, one of their beloved leaders, one of the few people Adam kept close to his heart, being paraded around like a dog. The shock was too much. Adam found himself frozen. The horror, the senseless humiliation, the anger, it was the final straw. Arresting Seb was one thing, parading him like that was quite another.
Adam and Seb had known each other for years. Adam was one of the privileged few to know Seb as a person, winged as he was, away from the rebellion, back when it was still safe to be out on the streets, back when you could be yourself and now worry about vanishing during the night. Long before Hamish was around, long before the winged humans were hunted down like dogs, Adam and Seb had been lovers, and those ties were as strong as they ever were. Having to watch him crawling on the road, being kicked until he started crawling again whenever he fell down, looking so utterly broken and abused, it was the worst torture imaginable. Hamish didn’t know about Adam and Seb, Adam felt it was better that way. Adam was content to have Hamish believe they were just old friends. But he’d have to tell him now. There was no way of explaining how much it hurt watching him suffer like that without mentioning how close they had been.
Adam watched, unable to look away, hearing Seb’s voice so soft and delicate, whispering to him all those years ago, a voice that was now tinged with pain, with anger, still defiant to his last breath. His memories were so at odds with what he was seeing now. The cameras delighted in zooming in on his injuries, showing the people watching at home all the cuts and bruises covering his skin.
Adam had to look away when they showed close-ups of Seb’s wing stubs. His knees collapsed under him, sending him to the floor. He cried into his hands, feeling utterly helpless. The sight was too much. They were still bleeding, too, broken bone protruding from the remaining feathers. The jeers from the crowd stabbed at him. He hated this Government so much. To treat a human being like that… it was monstrous. And he thought some of the stories he’d heard from China were bad. Australia had once again demonstrated it wanted to win at everything, even in tyrannical dictatorships. He was about to turn it off when Tim emerged from the bathroom, wings gleaming in the light.
“What’s all that noise? Another one of those parades?” Tim said, walking up to Adam. He glanced down at him, seeing how upset he was. “You alright, mate?”
“It’s Seb,” Adam whispered, peering through his fingers at the horror on the TV.
“No fucking way. What have they done to him? How can they do this? How can the world not know about this?” Tim said, unable to believe what he was seeing.
“I can’t bear to watch our kind suffering any longer. This has to stop. We have to do something before they wipe us all out,” Adam said.
Tim knelt behind him, bringing him into a tight hug. No words could help ease Adam’s pain. It was times like these that felt the most depressing, when the world attacked and wounded you enough to break you but not kill you. Adam’s wings curled around him, offering some semblance of comfort. He wasn’t just watching his leader die; that was one of his oldest and best friends, and one of his lovers. The pain was inexplicable. Adam felt as if he was feeling every wound Seb had. Even his wings ached. No one would blame him for crying.
*
Hamish arrived home and went straight to Adam still curled into Tim’s arms. Tim pulled back, letting Hamish take over. Hamish turned the TV off and sat in front of Adam, grabbing his arms firmly. He knew he could never fully comprehend what Adam was going through, but he’d do his best. Hamish searched his eyes, desperate to see some sign of life in there.
“Hamish. Hamish it was-” Adam whispered, unable to finish the sentence.
“I know, I know, I saw it,” Hamish said softly, bringing Adam into his arms.
Adam held him tightly, wishing today had never happened. His wings curled around them both, Hamish shivering at the soft feathers brushing his face. Adam couldn’t bring himself to speak anymore. It was all too hard to speak.