#nerve damage-its normal-should heal up in a few days-i also like-bit onto it during sleep?

[catchandelier]

We’re staying at a hotel tonight, or so has been the repeated line from higher perches than mine, as I don’t have the money in this relationship and I don’t drive either. In the normal course of life- even the abnormal course of life under quarantine- my lack of driving was no great hardship. I have legs and I am glad of their use; and before the quarantine, I had a rather good grasp of the public transport system. At the very least, I could get where I meant to when I meant to, and back home again in a reasonable time.

I wonder: will the bus stops still be there? The train stations? The bank isn’t, after all.

Some of the graffiti down lake street as we headed out: No Justice, No Peace; Fuck 12; George Floyd Presente!; Make Being Black Legal; Mama I Can’t Breathe. These are also the slogans that stuck. The only one I requested explanation of is the significance of 12, and thus why it should get fucked; 12 references an outdated police code for drugs, or perhaps a segment officers tasked with the apprehension of those selling drugs.

On our way out, I saw murals untouched by violence of any kind, unmarred by spray paint; I saw ordinary people, in their long sleeves and masks and gloves, with trash bags and brooms and a will to help; I saw the empty burned out husk of a store I shopped in last year; I saw USPS mail cars being loaded onto a truck of their own in preparation for evacuation; I saw police cars hiding behind concrete dividers, kin or kind to those seen during highway construction. It strikes me now that the police in that car perhaps think the concrete will protect them. It won’t; but they will still be surprised when it doesn’t.

I am outside the city now, and from the window of my room I can see the airport (instantly obsolete the day it opened, poor thing) and no planes fly from it, and now under curfew there are no cars, or at least very few, passing by in the night. This of course means there is very little interfering noise from here back and back to the heart- I can hear all the sirens downtown from all the way at the airport. I can hear it through the glass window. I can hear it through eight stories of air and a wide parking lot and fifteen-twenty-half an hour of highway. It is faded and distorted by distance, but I Know; faded enough that I almost thought the sound was ringing only in my head. It isn’t; and I was still surprised that it isn’t.

I am thankful I can’t hear the pop of teargas. It sounds like gunfire; which is to say, it sounds like a small firecracker, or a champagne popper with depth. The movies are for entertainment; they don’t have to show you, or let you hear, the truth if a bit of film-flam makes for the better story. I can say now, I prefer the story. Would that all guns were just heavy toys to make it easier to pretend.

Friday morning from behind our front window; a building about a block away was on fire, the flames licked and danced above the blocking roof of the bank, which also (eventually) burned; and it was a very strange and poignant moment, when brown smoke smeared the sky grey to the left of my position viewing the fire, and to the right, the clear blue sky dazzled with clean white clouds I’ve come to expect this time of year. In the windowsill, our noisy and bold cat, who is quite small in size- such that I sometimes forget she only weighs eight pounds when I haven’t picked her up in a while. On the couch, below the window, our other cat, nervous and desiring only to be at someone, anyones, side. He, I think, ate a brick when no one was watching; perhaps it is his slight personality that makes his dense body such a shock. The small one doesn’t care if you hold her; the large one wants to be put down, now, after a measured count of eight.

The foul smoke that rose from this conflagration- and the others that dotted the city- so nauseated me that day, I did not eat until half past noon, when my head ached with hunger. The miasma of tear gas diluted in the air was so thick on the Wednesday before the Thursday before that day, I couldn’t help getting a pernicious sinus headache that I woke with, and went to sleep with, and could not escape even in filtered air.

The poison was already inside me, you see.

I was reminded that day of this: although people have their squabbles and ruinations, the greater whole of nature doesn’t give a shit. The cat in the windowsill slept; the cat on the couch was no more nervous than he always is. Somehow, I find it heartening. The world goes on. The poison is cleared; and if damage remains, so what? I am alive to be damaged, and heal.

As we left, I saw there were people sweeping the streets of broken glass-front shops and a building that was only a little bit still on fire, mostly on the roof, or so I heard; I couldn’t actually see it from my spot in the car. There was a dollar store burned to rubble, smoke still rising from its leech colored soot-blacked bones; the liquor store, the bank, the targets, and more still, looted and burned. And more people coming to see and join and fight; my friend Hannah who went out today- yes, this very day- and stood in protest at the capital, which is St Paul. My friend Hannah, who is brave, and white, and this day in such terrible danger I felt as if time would not move until I heard she was safe again. She is safe, just to gut that small moment of tension for you.

(I will thank you not to conflate Minneapolis with St Paul. The Twin Cities have different counties, and were built in different eras of urban design; one is Catholic and one is Protestant; one is moneyed and the other classed; one has a garbage disposal service that works, and the other has ruined their alleys with mercenary action. Prince came from Minneapolis, not St. Paul. I quite like Minneapolis and Minnesota, for all its warts and horrors, and I will get snippy about this little thing. The big things, I think, are well past snips.)

South Minneapolis is home to a number of anarchists, and to them I give thanks- for it is they who had a whole entire fire hose- a real one- and perhaps a wrench, and it was our block’s community that wrangled the thrashing thing in place long enough to douse the bank. My father, and my stepmom’s sisters husband, were among that community. They are also quite brave, I think.

My personal notes on the escape and subsequent confinement inherent in fleeing riots and rioters and flames and other such insurrections:

Bring a book. Bring your game system- Switch, Xbox, gameboy etc. You might think it’s just a digitized version of cocaine or opium, but oh what a blessing to be able to not think and worry about things you have no power to change; to escape somewhere the world can not touch but in such and such prescribed way, and that you can change in any way you’d like.

Animal Crossing is a very good game.

You will stay longer than a night, pack for longer than one night; you will get tired of food rationed from what you can order. You will not get tired of not having to do dishes, but you will get tired of not having a full sized trash can or any replacement trash bags.

You will get bored, and miss your homely comforts, the weight of your bedding and the mess of your things. You will miss your pets and your projects and your games you left at home because they were too heavy to take with you.

You will miss your laundry room. Bring laundry detergent, and dryer sheets, and that pouch of coins you never use because why would you.

You will not miss the noise; but the new uncertainty, laid atop your back (which aches from the weight of plague’s uncertainty) like a fine sharp knife, will steal sleep from your eyes and thin your last nerve to the very edge of breaking. Even with the silence, and perhaps the privacy.

You will want to start fights and be rude and cruel for no reason other than you know how, and can, and are bored, and you can only really control yourself at this point. You won’t actually do these things because you’re still a person, for now, and you’d like to still be a person at the end of all this.

You will continue to hope for an end, and ignore the news as best you can because it’s all lurid and terrible and you really just want a breakfast where you don’t have to aggressively find reasons the world isn’t a terrible place.

(The world is not a terrible place, for clarity’s sake. I’m just a little tired of the weather and cnn at free breakfast when all I want is an omelette and some juice.)

You’ll find ways to cope, again; you’ll find ways to resolve yourself to waiting, again. You’ll start a new book, or a different project, or take a nap. You’ll make a new schedule, to stave off boredom, again.

You will and should and can do all of those things; I give you permission. But.

Under absolutely no circumstances can you allow yourself to believe that the deprivation and calamity we are experiencing right now is in any way normal. Let no one, not even yourself, convince you that this- this state of the world, the quarantine, the too-closeness of your family and the distance from your friends, your skin crawling over itself with restless unending boredom- is normal. Revolution is necessary; it is not normal. Quarantine is necessary; it is not normal.

Aim for acceptable. But don’t accept it.

Oh, and if you’re up to it, do try and take more than two nearly good photos of a total five- human memory has an unfortunate habit of failure. Scars and memories fade away; but photographic glory is forever.

[To gut some more of that dramatic tension for you, we’re all safe and at home now. But the rebellion rages on.]

#RiotZone #show them what rebellion means #rise up #godspeed rebels

[thedreaminus]

Rebels

ff.net | A03

Summary: When the Union gets problems in its own ranks. A Noblesse AU about the Trio.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Their nerves were blank. A mixture of tense expectation and fear. The latter came from Kranz, who came to them shortly after midnight to speak to them. Takeo did not think he would blame Tao and him for the behavior of the other DA-5 members. But Kranz has always had far-reaching disciplinary procedures. Excuses from their side would only make things worse.

Takeo did not have much time. he made a rough plan with which words he wanted to distract Krantz best. Shortly after the alarm, Krantz was already at the door. Takeo caught him with the news that the headquarter of the 12th Elder was being attacked. This commanded Krantz the hoped-for stop. Their leader immediately focused his thoughts on the essential.

"When did this happen?"

"Ten minutes?" Takeo estimated, stepping back to give Krantz a better view. He had not replaced any instructions, caused any trouble. Unlike Tao, he had a certain fighting ability that could not be dispensed with so quickly. That had always made him one of the better DA-5 agents in Krantz's eyes. Now that the trouble with Shark and Hammer was so fresh and certainly would not be so easy to clean up - Takeo did not even want to waste a friendly or neutral thought on Shark - it was all the more important to draw Krantz on their side.

"Why I was not informed earlier?"

"Not all drives were connected because of ... a lack of manpower" Tao intervened and glanced over to M-21, "I'm afraid the existing storage capacity would be insufficient once I started to reflect the data on the sever. Takeo was so nice to help me out."

Krantz sorted the information he heard. "How much do you have?"

"Hard to say," Tao put his laptop aside, swung his legs across the table and walked over to the server, looking at the hard drives in different colors and tones signals. "Six of the disks are full," the hacker replied. "The seventh, in part. That's roughly between 50-70 terabytes of data I could save before the connection broke. I can't say how much total data was there. I also can not rule out that a part is damaged because it was quite hectic."

Krantz turned on his heel. "I'll contact the Sits," he said, meaning the rest of Elder. "Shark and Hammer are not supposed to approach for now and ..." Krantz stopped beside M-21's camp bed, "What's up with that?"

Takeo's stomach churned. "Will recover, but that will take a few days". How should they convince Krantz - without sounding suspecious - that the M-21 was useful? Currently, M-21 had no value except as an additional worker.

"How long?"

"We do not know," Tao sat down again with his laptop, "But it takes several days to retrain someone." More contradictions thrown in hopes that Krantz will bite onto someting. They could not afford more opposition. Krantz thought for too long for Takeo's taste. Finally he turned and left the room. As soon as the door slammed and Krantz's footsteps ceased, Tao hissed and let his breath out. Even Takeo kneaded his fingers to release a bit of tension.

Tao chuckled and it sounded a bit manic. "In the next few days and months, much depends on our acting performance!" He stopped laughing and gasped excitedly for air. Takeo brought him some water and watched as he drank. Apparently M-21's action had done exactly what they had hoped for. From now on, things would be twice as dangerous.

Behind Tao's forehead was chaos already, that much was clearly visible. Takeo stood patiently beside his partner and took the bottle after a few minutes. He knew too well how much depended on Tao now. Neither M-21 nor he could develop a system to infiltrate the Union, they could only help and try to keep most of the stress away from Tao. Takeo had already experienced Tao in high work mode. Too many tasks, stress and then no sleep. In addition, the hacker in the last few hours had to deal with M-21's attack and the incident with Shark and Hammer. Enduring Shark was no easy feat.

Takeo knew he had to take care of him.

"I need a new laptop. Help me choose a few items." Tao was at a speed on the legs, which Takeo had to respect. He held up a part, looked at it and casually let it fall back into the box.

"Why?" Takeo made his way over to help him. A laptop? He should be able to manage that. Roughly, Takeo knew what was involved, and he started looking for the power cables.

"I want to build a laptop or a mini-computer," Tao formed an appropriate size with his hands. "It would be awkward if the Union finds the data from their labs on my laptop." The hacker nervously gnawed on his lower lip, "I love my baby," he murmured, glancing at his laptop, "But I should not hoard any borrowed data on it"

Takeo nodded and knelt beside another box to look for those useful parts that Tao had asked him to find. "Would not it be better to just access the data?" He asked, looking at two cables to see if they differed.

"Sure. Seventy terabytes is already a lot of data and with only one-small-equipment." Tao underlined the last three words with a corresponding gesture. "Hell ... I mean we alone may need a separate terminal server that we have to hide somewhere."

"This is very expensive."

Tao nodded. "From the beginning I had put backdoors in the standard programs. Well hidden, of course. A laptop with a virtual machine is enough for me. I can access and then use their server and their memory. But what if we want to send it to the Noblesse? A link over a longer distance with a system that I don't even know about? I would have to send the data in pure form, through the lines!"

Which none of them had thought about. M-21 had contacted Noblesse, but would they continue to listen to what he had to tell them in future? When it came to building an interface? Tao patted him on the shoulder.

"Let's focus on my new laptop first."

"Ah."

It was probably the best.

-.-.-

The Union did not take long to react to the attack. Not twenty-four hours after the attack on Union base and all its quarters hummed like a hive. Unfortunately, the 12th Elder was not in the lab at the time of attack and had survived. He had himself, via a remote switch, let Tao  salvage the data and his server through his personal security code. He was very suspicious and reminded Takeo of an angry pig.

Starting in the morning, more and more workers, more temporary workers, more technicians and more material would come to help build the servers. They only had a short time window to prepare and make plans. Fortunately, Tao's new laptop was already ready and only needed to be introduced to the standing server.

Takeo had managed to find some cans. 'Pork with beans' was labeled on the already fading wrapping paper. It tasted only slightly better than the bars they usually took, but they still liked it. A little change was good.

As modified humans, they did not need food for weeks. They did not have to eat, but were able to recharge their energy reserves as normal people did. They only ate now to occupy themselves more than anything else. Eating together was comfortable and they felt more like human when they were doing such a normal, humane activity. Last but not least, it was M-21 who had brought it to them since he had to eat - despite modification - much more often than Tao and Takeo.

So they sat quietly talking to each other on their provisional seating and ate. They still had to make the server room and take away their personal belongings. After all, soon the place would be swamped with dozens of technicians and assistants. It was only convenient to look for a room from where they were hopefully only minimally disturbed.

"You know," Tao mumbled with his mouth full of beans, "Now that it's obvious we're still spending some time here, we should get ourselves a stove and a pot." Takeo squinted over to him and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Then we can warm up our food! Maybe it will taste better."

Takeo took the effort to look into the can. The pulp he saw in it did not make him want to warm it up. Who knew if the stuff would come to life and attack him?

"How is M-21?" Tao put his can aside. They both looked over at the couch where the gray-haired man had been lying and sleeping since last night. This was not the first time Tao had inquired about M-21 and Takeo went over to check on him. M-21 did not move and showed no signs of waking up anytime soon. Neither of them could say if this was good or bad.

"No abnormalities so far," Takeo informed and added after a moment: "We have to carry away our equipment..." in one of the lower rooms. The room they had chosen as their base of operation. Did that mean M-21 had to go down with them? They could not leave him up here. Could they move him?

With renewed anxiety he strode over to the patient's bed again. Tao followed him.

"His complexion looks a little better," Tao remarked as they both leaned over the wounded man.

Otherwise nothing. "Maybe we should change the associations," suggested Takeo, waiting for Tao's nod. So they could see the wounds and could estimate how far the healing process had advanced. With an army knife and a lot of patience, they opened the knots one after the other. However as soon as the bare skin appeared, they froze.

"That's ... shit," Tao cursed under his breath and Takeo agreed with his heart. There was nothing left. No wound, not even a scratch, just some dried blood and a few faded bruises. He scanned the ribs and bones. Everything seemed to be alright there too.

"I suppose we can just carry him down."

"Ah ... let's put the bandages back so no one can see."

"Good idea."

They both set to work quickly. More to calm their troubled nerves. M-21 should not be able to recover so fast. Not from the injuries he had, not during this period. "We need Crombel's data as soon as possible," Tao whispered hastily, "I like this less and less."

"I know someone who is a hundred times more uncomfortable," Takeo replied quietly. But Tao was right. They had to access Crombel's data to find out what was going on with M-21. For his own sake.

-.-.-

"What do you think?"

"Hm ... looks like a headband."

"Nobody will see that later. Not with your hair anyway. It's more important that nobody can hear us later and you have no button in the ear! This goes directly over the temporal bone. "

"I don't know …"

"Hng ..."

Takeo interrupted his conversation with Tao and thus his attempt to turn this invention on its head. As soon as they could spare a little time, he would exchange a serious word with Tao. About personal boundaries for example. Tao showed impressively that he did not believe in this concept and leaned so close to M-21 that their noses almost touched.

"You are in my face," M-21 did not mumble, fully awake and blinked up at Tao, who grinned at him. Noticing that Tao's grin was turned-up a bit too much because of his excitement, Takeo pulled him back by the collar. M-21 took the opportunity to sit up. The man grimaced and shook himself as if he needed to get rid of an uncomfortable feeling.

"How long?"

"Not twenty-four hours."

M-21 raised his eyebrow and scanned his torso. Then he paused, considered and pulled one of the bandages away completely. They waited quietly until he realized what he was seeing and what it meant.

"Yes, fuck my life," grunted the gray-haired and threw the bandage carelessly behind him.

"Want to hear something good? The headquarter of the 12th Elder was completely destroyed," babbled Tao carelessly to distract M-21. "Unfortunately he was not present at the time."

"That was too good to be true, right?" M-21 remained in his ironic mode, ignoring Tao's distraction attempts. He clenched his fists several times and then sighed heavily. They could see how he had pulled himself together and his face showed no signs of discomfort. But he could not fool Tao and him. They knew he was anything but calm and they knew he did not want to talk about it.

"What is the current status?"

"Well ..." Tao gave him an overview of the developments of the last few hours. Takeo brought a can and some water to M-21. To his irritation, he only took the water and put the can away from him.

"Not hungry?"

"Yet," M-21 slowly and thoughtfully opened the bottle cap, "But, maybe I should not."

To keep himself weak. Takeo frowned, skipping the pros and cons that came with M-21's statement. It was natural to suspect that M-21 changes were related to the better lifestyles they offered him here. That his body could now resort to more energy reserves. On the other hand, M-21 did not even admit to knowing how much he had changed before their meeting. Food deprivation could slow down his progress, but it was not a certainty. Therefore, this was probably just an indefinite test. Takeo took the can and put it back.

"Not for long," he added for safety's sake. M-21 nodded in agreement, or he nodded reassuringly. The man was more stubborn than the concealed barrel of a semi-automatic.

"Say M-21," Tao sat down on the cot next to M-21 and besieged him. Takeo could see how M-21 paused briefly in his movement, probably not knowing how to respond to this sudden approach. Takeo watched as Tao moved so close to M-21 that their shoulders touched. M-21 remained in his posture, still holding the bottle in his hand. Takeo saw his muscles twitch.

"How were they?"

"Who?"

"The Noblesse."

M-21 curled his lips and his eyes became ice cold. The change came so suddenly that Tao, who was immune to mood swings, jerked back. Takeo got worried, but M-21 was back in control. This was another point that made it so hard for him to get warm with M-21. He was unpredictable and even Tao had a hard time assessing his temperament. The gray-haired hid his emotions too well.

"I suppose Noblesse do not like modified human," laughed Tao, trying to lessen the tense situation.

"... Yeah," M-21 growled trying not to dump his emotions on them. "I ... I spoke with the boy I had saved," half whispering he added something like: ungrateful brat. "Turns out he was trying to find his father back then."

"His father?" Takeo pulled another bed closer to sit down, "Did the Union kidnap him?"

"Probably. He talked a lot and also a lot of stupid stuff. Something about the fact that the Union has almost wiped out his family or relatives and probably abducted his father. In any case, he believes that."

"And then he wants to alone...?"

M-21 laughed. "I told him same. But he just said that he is older than me and he's such a shit."

Takeo thought the child must've said a lot more about M-21. M-21 seemed emotionally charged and these were certainly not just matter-of-fact words. The gray-haired man looked gloomily and brooding to the ground.

"They do not like modified humans," he mumbled then and kept all that the Noblesse must have thrown in his face for himself. But the spoken was already enough. Takeo and Tao were silent with him and all of them were thinking.

Takeo stared at his hands, at the scarred, calloused skin. That was fine. They did not know the Noblesse and it was probably too much to expect that this species was positive about any aspect of the Union. Only that was the point. They also detested the Union. Disdained their actions, what had been done to them, and what they were forced to do. But they were still part of this organization.

"We can not expect from a child, who has lost his family at the hands of the Union and whose father is probably imprisoned, to see the difference." The difference between wanted and forced.

"Sure, the only party that's interested in us ..." M-21 started to spit out, but left it at the gesture itself. "We do not want anything else from them". Beside him, Tao gave an infinately sad expression, just before M-21 clutched at his nape with one hand, the other entangled in his hair almost tearing them out.

"M!?"

"I just feel like it," M-21 growled near Tao's ear and continued on with this strange attempt to distract Tao. Takeo sighed and counted out the seconds. Normally, M-21 let go himself. He did not like physical contact very much.

Yeah! Next chapter! And the number 6 is already done ( nearly ). So it should not take ssooo much time. I am aware that not so much action happens in this chapter, but there will be enough of that. This is more of a trio-bonding chapter^^

#noblesse #Noblesse: Rebels #M-21 #Takeo #Tao