hommages | jcdurbant | Page 9
2 oct. And it is firmly rooted in the history of the protest movement, from the A city where protestors don't smash up shops, and they also clean up after . if the movement is getting out of control, they would call for it to stop. Wu Ningkun .. A little later, at a Party meeting, Bo Yibo heard Mao announce that. Jongdae supposed that was when he fell in love with the cute boy, drag himself away from his coronation and meet up with the other three, .. My prices are exorbitant.” “I “Stop struggling,” Kai said, the two eels finally releasing Jongdae . Yifan was standing behind him with an appalled look as Luhan. You Meet Such Interesting People, Bess Whitehead . Measuring Up - How Advertising Affects After the Funeral and Other Poems, Laurie Bates agents in financial markets, Damien Challet, Matteo Marsili, Yi- Cheng Zhang.
But the various Occupy groups have adopted a diverse range of motifs. The raised fist evokes historic protest movements, while the hashtag strikes a contemporary note. What, then, is different about these Hong Kong demonstrators?
And how might their almost exaggerated politeness help them against the notoriously severe Chinese Communist Party? However, Occupy Central has positioned itself well, almost no matter the outcome. If, as many people fear, mainland authorities crack down Tiananmen-style, the training and the discipline the protesters have displayed will serve them well, galvanizing support and isolating the Chinese authorities.
The Occupy Central demonstrators are courteous. Beijing is obviously worried: The proof of this fact is playing out in the streets of Hong Kong right now.
The next day, thousands more people turned up with signs supporting the students, condemning police tactics, and calling for the resignation of Hong Kong leader C. Although it may seem obvious that a protest movement must win popular support to combat oppression, it is no easy feat, and something we have seen movements in dozens of countries fail to accomplish. Governments seize on the smallest acts of disorder or violence as excuses to crack down. By issuing the manual and attempting to train their activists, they have maintained a united front and warded off the pitfalls that plague too many social movements.
No one has a crystal ball for knowing what Beijing will do next. Right now the government appears to be set to try to wait the protesters out, hoping that their presence and the disruption of daily life will eventually alienate the movement from wider society. For now, while it is amusing to watch the most polite protesters in the world keeping up with their schoolwork and keeping the streets clean, their politeness actually demonstrates why they have become such a powerful force to reckon with.
Lizzie Dearden 29 September Pro-democracy demonstrators occupying parts of Hong Kong are in the running to be the most polite protesters ever after apologising for an isolated case of vandalism.
Despite clashes with police, who have used tear gas and pepper spray as well as charging crowds with batons in attempts to disperse them, the mood appears to have remained remarkably civil.
On Monday morning, Hong Kong resident James Legge spotted an apology note posted on a vandalised police van near the heart of protests in the Admiralty district. The movement, dubbed the Umbrella Revolution because of the widespread use of umbrellas against tear gas and pepper spray, has sparked solidarity protests around the world. Attempting to dispel rumours of intervention by the Chinese army, he added: Police will strive to maintain social order, including ensuring smooth traffic and ensuring the public safety.
Leung earlier said the central government would not change its mind over electoral rules and urged demonstrators to withdraw, stating: But in an interview with the Guardian, the veteran pro-democracy campaigner Martin Lee called on Cameron to play of more high-profile diplomatic role. You promised Hong Kong democracy.
Take My Hand Now, Be Alive
How can you reverse that? He should do more. He was kneeling on the beach, sand on his pale skin and tangled in his hair, robes bunched up, but the power in that one word was apparent, both of the iron-clad seizing up immediately. They were afraid, Jongdae realized. They were afraid of angering this man more than they feared the unknown. His sword glinted under the sunlight. Yixing stood up and patted sand off his pants, holding a hand up towards Luhan.
Zitao, run ahead and prepare the rooms near the infirmary. He had thought that to be perfect, the one thing he could protect Luhan in.
Yixing and Luhan walked ahead of the giant, and Jongdae looked up at the owner of the hand, squinting at his sharp angles and strong eyebrows. He peered, and peered, until the human started to squirm. Jongdae was carried over bumpy roads, barely seeing anything with his view obstructed by meaty fingers. He did notice, however, when open sky turned into stone, and he looked with unrepentant awe when they entered the human castle.
The man holding him looked down briefly. Tapestries hung on the walls, along with coloured windows and cool stones. Statues and armours littered the corridor, but everything was so The smell of the sea clung to the stones, but it was a tangent stench that was artificial and ancient.
Once they entered a room the guard put Jongdae down on the floor quickly as if he was burnt. Can you not make me feel like you just want to step on me? The entourage left Luhan and Jongdae in the room, Yixing promising to return tomorrow after they had settled in as Luhan sighed dreamily. The room itself was rather spacious, if a bit bland and colourless.
A large double bed pushed against the wall, an empty wardrobe swinging on its hinges on the other side of the room. The stone floor was cold to touch. A simple table stood against one of the walls with a single chair, and a nice windowed view over the beach that Luhan and Yixing had first met, the start of their ill-fated relationship as the sun hung above them mockingly.
Luhan sighed happily again. Scuttling on hard surfaces was even more difficult than fighting against the current, but he managed to climb up onto the wooden table to be at eye level with Luhan. At least, that was what Jongdae supposed he was asking.
Luhan rolled his eyes. Impatiently, Luhan began to tap on the table, before starting to trace shapes on it.
fic for baekimon, A Cup of Noodles
Luhan traced out crudely. Luhan pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, both of them knowing how true that statement was. You better stay put before they decide to put you in a pot and cook you. Luhan stuck his tongue out immaturely, then slid under the covers and went to bed facing the wall. Curled up into a little ball with his shell plates clanking against each other, Jongdae sunk into a fitful sleep.
A servant woke both of them up with wide, wide eyes, bringing with him a change of clothes and after that, escorted Luhan to a fancy dining hall. Yixing and his two bodyguards were already there with a spread of simple dishes, while Jongdae was placed on the table with a bowl of fish. Luhan blinked sleepily at him and looked to Jongdae. Yifan was standing behind him with an appalled look as Luhan attempted to stick a three pronged thing in his hair.
Something in order to save himself. Many men perished, but somehow I was saved by something with a gorgeous black tail. Well, at least Luhan was now murdering the He had the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. My father has announced to the kingdom that whoever possesses the voice of the man who saved me will be courted by me.
Jongdae dug in his fish quietly. Comparatively, Yixing was much more calm and composed, as if it was every other day that he picked up strangers and ate breakfast with them. There was something about his way with words, sometimes slightly too archaic and polite, and Jongdae marveled at the carefully constructed manner of speaking that seemed to come easily to him, compared to Luhan who had to cherry pick his words slowly and delicately. Once they were back in the safety of their room, Luhan threw Jongdae against the bed and pummeled him with the pillow.
You better help me with this. His words were shaky, quivering, terrified. The worst thing was, Jongdae liked Yixing, more than he had intended to. By day Luhan trails after Yixing like a lost puppy as Yixing met all sorts of people, standing in the corner of the room helplessly.
Yixing, on the other hand, never seemed to get the hint. Perhaps this was one thing he had in common with Luhan. He never protested to anything, to be fair, but he also never actually did anything actively.
He frustrated Jongdae so much, but every time Yixing smiled at his citizens with that dimpled smile of his, Jongdae could only swallow his discomfort down. But 30 days pass by quicker than most. Luhan had barely a week left when he arrived. He was surprisingly shy, wringing his hands on his pants. He was pretty, too, enough for Yixing to perk up and not dismiss him immediately. Jongdae glanced at Luhan, and saw how his fists were clenched. The man bowed elegantly, hair artfully swept to one side.
Crisp, clear, everyone could hear it. But what made Jongdae see white as Luhan gasped out loudly, was not just the confident answer spilling from such an innocent, trustworthy face. It was the voice, the voice that sounded like a million wind chimes, yet at the same time to Jongdae it dripped with poison, this man was poison.
It was a simple rowboat, docked to a large pond at the back of the castle. The water was clear and translucent, while lichen and moss decorating the stones surrounding it. There was a view of never ending green and pinks as trees surrounded the pond.
Faint thuds against the wood coupled with the sloshing of water drowned out the sounds of the pair conversing. Jongdae was going to be sick. Before he even realized, the fish that Luhan had given him at lunch lay on the deck of the boat in a mushy pile. I am but a lowly peasant that lives on the outskirts of your kingdom, blessed by the gods of the seas.
She makes things out of them, accessories, flutes, decorations - she came across this conch shell and threaded it up as a gift to me. And once I put it on, this voice just- my voice changed. Nothing you have to worry about.
Very peaceful and quiet. This man had nothing on Luhan. Scuttling forward, he finally put his pincers to good use.
Luhan stood up from where he was slumped on the table as soon as Jongdae slid in, his eyes burning with fiery hatred. Only Jongdae read the fear hiding in his brown orbs. Instead Luhan curled into a ball in the center of the bed, slender frame racked with tears, all alone. Was all Jongdae did for moot?
From that moment on, Jongdae began to hate Zhang Yixing. Then he realized something from the short, heartbreaking conversation he had overheard, and from the depths of his mind trudged out a simple plan. He finally managed to get Chanyeol alone a few days later, when Yixing and Kim Junmyeon were held up finalizing wedding arrangements in the throne room, while Luhan was holed up in his room as always, as if he had entirely given up on the idea of winning Yixing over.
Pale, Chanyeol held Jongdae up as he makes for the throne room. Yifan nodded to them as they pass through the double doors, and Jongdae almost felt guilty. Jongdae, how is Luhan? Junmyeon was the good man, and Jongdae once again regretted making Luhan hate Junmyeon. With a heavy heart, he pinched Chanyeol on the shoulder lightly.
The prince had his left hand out with fingers spread, but his right was reaching inside his robes. Yifan and Zitao were approaching with their hands on the hilt of their swords, Junmyeon opened his mouth, and nothing came out. Give it back to me! I am your prince! Destroy the shell now. The shell cracked into two. Many things happened at once. He bounced a few steps on the carpet - the fracture on his shell after being dropped on stone floors too many times complained loudly. Junmyeon had collapsed entirely on the ground, limbs flailing as Yixing ran to his side frantically.
In the midst of the commotion, the doors were flung wide open as Luhan dashed into the room, eyes bloodshot. When he came to a few moments later, the sky was completely dark. Dae, Dae, I need you!
He could clearly see Minseok in the far distance in the sea, but gigantic and outraged, icy spikes sprouting from his enlarged body, racing straight for the shore. He wants- I think he wants to kill us. He wants you to distract the witch, if possible. Jongdae struggled to catch up, but before he managed to leap onto the boat Luhan had already pushed it into the sea, leaving Jongdae on the shore as the current was too strong for him to try to swim there.
His sword glinted with the reflections casted by the ice. He could only surmise that Luhan was there, distracting him, and could only pray for Luhan to not do anything stupid again and come back safely. Something Luhan said must have aggravated Minseok, for the sea witch turned completely towards the small little dot in the distance, uncaring of the fact that the black liquid splashed against his back and stomach, getting onto his face and painting his neck pitch black.
The arrow took flight. Horrible screeching filled the air.
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A salmon flopped at the edge of the beach, its gills and scales sealed tight with tar. After a few moments it went up in flames. Jongdae watched as the world he knew burnt. Even now he looked so beautiful, so entirely forgivable that Jongdae hated him the more for it. You saved me, and I will never cease to be thankful for it. And you are, very beautiful. I cannot fall in love with you simply because I find you or your voice attractive. Could you not ask for something that is impossible to do?
There was nothing else he could say. Obediently he scurried out from under the bed and moved towards the sea, but the tar-filled surface made him skid to a stop.
Battle scars were littered everywhere, dead animals suffocated to death as the tar had spread overnight, burnt to death. Humans, trapped under the water. Debris flooded the ocean, washed up to the beach. Zitao had mentioned that the tar would sink eventually, as if that would cleanse the water. Gritting his teeth, Jongdae ran along the shoreline until he found a clear spot to jump into.
The marine life here is suffering, all because of Luhan. No one wants him back. What kind of friend brings destruction to his own family, his entire realm, his entire race, for another one?
He just wants his friends back. Is it that hard to ask for? Jongdae knew exactly what they were seeing. Pale, haggard, as if all life and energy had been sucked out of him, leaving a mere shell of his former self. Surprisingly, Baekhyun was the first to swim forward, and Luhan unfolded himself to step into the water and hug Baekhyun tightly. Under the sunlight, his cheekbones were even more prominent, and being clad with merely swim trunks put his ribs on full display.
None of them brought up the fact that that was the deepest Luhan could ever go. Baekhyun took Jongdae away into the corals. Baekhyun cursed loudly, making a school of cod jump and swim in the other direction. Only Jongdae would allow Luhan to drag him around, allow Luhan to do whatever he wanted and just stand back. This is in no way healthy.
Jongdae trusted in himself, trusted in Luhan, trusted in their love. He tore his eyes away and swam away rapidly towards the light. As he broke the waves Kyungsoo was already gone, Luhan sitting on the beach like a bedraggled dog, water lapping at his ankles. Yixing looked away with crippling pity in his eyes and walked away, leaving Zitao and Yifan to lift Luhan up in a macabre re-enaction of a procession.
There was no more fear, however, of the collapsed shadow on the icy blue throne, Sehun and Kai entwined on the armsrests.
There was only desperation, an innate, pressing desire, as Jongdae cowered in front of the gaunt being. Now there was merely a tickling sensation behind his eyes, a foreign, constant pressure that simmered, waiting to explode. He was still begging when Sehun took him between the teeth gently and deposited him on the beach, and the eel ducked away in guilt, instantly swallowed by the gentle currents of the sea.
He scuttled back into the castle with wounded pride, sticking to the shadows as the flurry of human activity drove right past him. No one noticed him. He could hear the roaring of the sea breeze from where he stood.
Jongdae found Chanyeol on his knees scrubbing the kitchen floor with rags. His knuckles and kneecaps were already bruised from the prolonged activity, and he flinched when Jongdae told him he needed to see Yixing. If not for Luhan you would have been thrown into the kitchen, especially for leading Chanyeol astray.