One of the most irritating momentum-killing faux-concerns from people when it comes to conflict is the hand-wringing about “if we (you) ___ then people will be hurt/die/etc” as a reason to not engage in meaningful resistance use violence as a tool.
‘If there is a revolution people will die’, ‘if we riot people will get hurt,’ ‘if you resist you will get hurt’ ‘if you fight back, people will die.’
People are already dying, people are already being hurt. I understand the fear of injury in the face of chaos but I need you to understand the horror of brutality carried out calmly.
‘Everything Was Peaceful Until The Uprising’ is a wild disconnect from reality.
Evictions are violence. Arrests are violent. Cops brutalizing people is violence. Poverty is violence. Nazi speeches are violent. Apartheid is violence. Worker abuse is violence. Medical debt is violence.
Oppression is violence.
Little revolutionary acts are resistance too, but pitting pious symbolic gestures or communal aid as being opposite violent response to oppression is disingenuous.
Slave revolts were not the beginning of the violence, Stonewall was not the beginning of the violence, the Haitian Revolution was not the beginning of the violence. The Al-Aqsa Flood was not the beginning of the violence.
Acts of solidarity are survival. Acts of solidarity are coalition building. In some ways it can be liberating. But it is not total liberation.
I will help my immediate circle, I will expand my circle, I will build solidarity with those around me and those far from me, but without a fight, we do not see freedom.
“If you form a blockade so that paddywagon can’t leave, the cops will beat you.”
If I move, the cops will drive away.
There is always risk! If one person blocks a wagon it may be fruitless but symbolic. If a few block the wagon it may buy time for an escape from the back or just be a gesture of solidarity. If many people block the wagon, it can’t fucking leave.
If no one blocks it, business continues as usual, and “order” is restored, and the gears of incarceration grind on unhindered.
How peaceful.
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oOoOO wait what's the ❛ Walking Archive ❜ project and why did was Record forced to go through it??
Oh man, I feel like I’ve written something about the “Walking Archive” Project before… Oh well, can’t hurt writing some more about it. ^^
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The “Walking Archive” project was something a bunch of scientists created, after it was revealed that Record’s outlier ability was to record and save everything he ever learned in his processor. Kind of like a computer, but there is no limit on how much information his processor can save. Something the scientists found useful until they found out that everything they saved in Record’s processor couldn’t be deleted from there. They could download a copy, but never get rid of it.
It is why Record was spending most of his time in isolation, after the discovery. Despite having no-where to go, the scientist didn’t want to risk losing vital information and or sensitive data that might include some blackmail or history the senate tried to get rid of.
But him being an Outlier isn’t the only reason why he had to go through it though. It was either becoming a Guinea Pig for some scientists, or deactivation. And while Record would have liked death more, the judges decided against it.
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whumptober 2023, day 1
The weather in Ketterdam is abnormally good that night, the dark sky without a trace of clouds and the wind barely a breeze, which only makes it more unfortunate and unfair that Inej feels seriously worse for wear on that particular day.
Among the other countless things she dislikes about this wretched city, this godforsaken country, the awful wet climate is one of the few more harmless but more annoying aspects. Even after all the time she has spent here, she is still not quite used to it.
Ravka is vast and downright freezing in some areas, but summers are usually sunny and hot, borderline scorching, and in the colder months her family’s caravan tended to move onto the more southern routes, where it was at least pleasantly cool, if not always warm. It’s harder to perform well when you are chilled to the bone. There’s no better gold than the sun, her Aunt Mariyam used to say.
Kerch doesn’t have such a thing as seasons - everything is the same all year round. Heavy rains always pour, forceful winds always blow, life goes on. Imagining Kerch without dampness is almost like imagining the Barrel without crime or Kaz without his gloves - for all intents and purposes, impossible.
By now Inej is used to the slippery slopes of Ketterdam’s roofs and wet and unstable surfaces she has to climb daily, but her body seems to have missed the notice that it shouldn’t pay any attention to the toll this ghastly climate takes on her.
Which is why she’s perched on the roof of one of the canvas storehouses and her head is pounding. She’s sneaking around the Warehouse District today, checking the rumours she’s heard lately about the Razorgulls having some new dealings here, and for now it seems like they were completely right. A few of them have been loitering around here for a while, appearing with the cargo shortly after the stadwatch passed this particular nook on their patrol and hiding it away in some of the warehouses beforehand.
Her head still hurts. It’s getting a bit hard to properly concentrate and listen, rough syllables of Kerch mixing up in her brain, but she manages to follow the flow of the conversation anyway. New shippings. Jurda. Ammunition. Another delivery. Next month.
It’s been less than a year since she joined the Dregs, but she’s good at what she does, despite how much it bothers her. The Wraith is already somewhat renowned around the less savoury parts of the city. She’s the best spider in the Barrel, probably in the whole Kerch. She can’t let herself be taken out by such a simple thing as a cold. Kaz would be very unhappy.
Razorgulls finally wrap up and disperse, heading towards West or East Staves to gambling dens and pleasure houses, and Inej doesn’t bother following them. None of them are too high-ranking and most likely she’s already learnt all she could tonight. Inej gives herself a moment to regain her composure and swiftly rises.
She thinks she might have made a serious lapse in her judgement when her vision abruptly starts blurring at the edges and her legs feel much weaker than they did just moments ago. Oh no, she thinks in the seconds before her body succumbs to the sudden fatigue and she collapses.
That is to say, Inej falls. Considering that until a moment ago she has been successfully balancing on the edge of the roof, she falls quite a bit.
She falls and there’s no safety net to catch her. Inej Ghafa hasn’t used one since she was a little child and first stepped on the wire, but it would really be rather useful now, she thinks. She, at least, has enough awareness to curl up the way her father taught her to do when falling.
She comes round lying on a hard pavement. Well, now her head hurts even more. Saints. At least she’s lucky that the Warehouse District is fairly tame at night and no-one seems to be around any longer. Or she would’ve found herself in a much worse situation. She lies there a bit longer, slowly unbending her limbs.
Okay. The trick to falling is in getting back up, her father used to repeat. Ghafas don’t give up. Inej gets up. She sways a bit and has to hold onto the wall for stability but it doesn’t seem like she’s going to pass out again.
Alright. It’s fine, everything is fine. First order of business - report back to Kaz all that she’s found out. Then she can deal with everything else. One step at a time. Everything is fine.
Step by step, she starts off towards the Slat. She keeps to the shadows but mostly stays on the ground in an attempt to not worsen the damage. Surprisingly, it goes fairly well. As hurt as she is, she hasn’t lost the ability to be sneaky and silent. She gets to the Dregs’ quarters with only a couple of neatly avoided close calls.
Her second mistake of the night is thinking that if she’s managed to get to the Slat safely, she can climb up to Kaz’s office as per usual. She feels the strength leave her as she painstakingly reaches the right window.
She pushes herself the last half-metre with sheer willpower and clambers onto the windowsill gracelessly, virtually flopping down on it. She sees Kaz’s dark-haired head swing in her direction and then she doesn’t see anything, because for the second time in a night Inej faints.
She comes to and there are strikingly pale hands hovering practically in her face. She’s lying on something hard once again. At least it doesn’t seem like she’s fallen off of a building this time, thank the Saints.
The pale fingers snap thrice to attract her attention and then rearrange slightly. She hears a familiar raspy voice.
‘Focus, Wraith, focus. Come on. How many fingers am I holding up?’
There’s something wrong with what she’s seeing, definitely something wrong, but thoughts slip away from her like fog and she can’t, can’t, can’t quite grasp what exactly is amiss. Kaz would be very disappointed with such carelessness.
Right. Kaz. She should probably answer him.
She really tries to do that. She doesn’t quite manage. She’s so tired and hurt and…
The next time Inej wakes up she’s in her room, in her bed. She doesn’t particularly like the fact that someone has moved her while she’s been unconscious, but it’s probably better than lying on Kaz’s floor.
Right. Kaz. Who is standing next to her cot, leaning onto the wall, for some reason looking a bit windswept, almost frazzled. His eyes are locked on her, but he’s messing with his gloves thoughtlessly. His gloves. There was something weird about his gloves, wasn’t there? No matter, no use wondering about it now.
Instead Inej focuses on the only other person in the room. It’s Karina, a quiet girl a few years her senior, who acts as the Dregs’ medic sometimes. From what Inej knows about her, she’s an orphan, Ravkan, always keeps her thick brown hair short and boyish and knows her way around healing salves. Karina smiles at her tightly and proffers a cup of something herbal and bitter-smelling.
Kaz nods to her rigidly and strides hurriedly out of the room.
Inej is back on her feet in a week. She’s always got over illnesses fast and Karina’s concoctions do wonders for her health.
She ends up having a sprained wrist, an impressive collection of massive blue-black bruises scattered all over her legs and a mild concussion from her fall. She ponders a bit about the weird image of Kaz fretting over her that she thought she saw at some point after she had blacked out in his office, but he acts like it never happened and, anyway, it doesn’t make much sense. It can’t possibly be right, so she quickly discards this nonsense as a dream induced by the fever and a head wound. Yes, that must be it.
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I don't mean this in a braggy way because like, state of the world/society/economy and all that, but the fact that I have had multiple unexpected expenses with my car and cat this year equaling roughly $1-2k (I'm guessing I don't actually know) and I have been able to pay for all of them out of pocket with money I already had saved is something I'm so proud of. Growing up my parents made some poor financial decisions and then were hit with big medical bills so I always watched them struggle. I watched cars get repossessed, I watched them discuss the best way to ask my grandparents for a loan so the house wouldn't get foreclosed, I watched my mom sob on the phone to debt collectors who treated her like absolute shit. I even had to pay for my moms groceries before when her card got unexpectedly declined and then comforted her while she cried from embarrassment on the ride home. And on top of all that they put themselves into even more debt to give us as normal of a childhood as possible. They are entering their late 50s, my mom hopes that the last of their credit card debt will finally be paid off and all they have left is the mortgage, but they have no savings.
According to the experts I'm not where I am supposed to be financially at the age of 30, but I know I am a lot better off than others my age. I don't particularly like my job; it can be very stressful for a good chunk of the year, I had to give up hopes of using my degree to stay here because this job actually pays me a living wage (which is a whole other discussion about certain fields demanding a degree and then paying a shit wage), the owner isn't as involved in day to day operations as we would like and doesn't see the same looming issues that we do, and it's not what I envisioned myself doing for the rest of my life (nor do I know if I can physically or mentally do it for another 40 years lol) BUT I don't live paycheck to paycheck like I always feared I would. I have worked hard for my promotion and raises, I have literally made myself an invaluable asset to the company (yes a very capitalistic view I know), and I have started earning bonuses that I can put into savings or put towards paying off student loans.
I have learned from my parents mistakes enough to not fall into the trap of credit card debt. I have one credit card and I have never maxed it out nor have I ever used more than I can pay off. I will admit that this past year I was a little frivolous with some of my purchases, but God I think I deserve a little fun now. If my 2024 budget and goals go to plan then by the end of the year I will have an emergency fund with 6 months of expenses built up, my high yield savings account will have 10k, and I will still have money left over to enjoy some things here and there.
I'm rambling. I'm not here to brag, I'm here to tell myself to take a breath and relax a little. I'm 30, single, and doing it all on my own with no one to fall back on for financial support and as of right now I'm doing good. I'm proud of myself and I believe in myself.
(also if I'm being honest all this is me convincing myself not to quit my job after a shitty and exhausting christmas season that has left my sick and emotionally drained lol)
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