<nav>
<ul class="twofer">
<li>Stand Up</li>
<li>Stay Silent</li>
</ul>
</nav>
<h2 class="subtitle center"><span>A Fable</span></h2>
<span class="startbutton">[[start]]</span>
<span class="creditsbutton">[[credits]]</span>
<span class="endingsbutton">[[endings]]</span>It's taken you a month and one substantial favor to line up tonight's reservation at <em>Chateau d'Or</em>, New Cydonia's most exclusive restaurant.
Your partner, Demia, has been trying to find out where you're going for their birthday for about as long, but it's not until your transit buggy pulls off the regolith and into the sparkling golden dome that surrounds the restaurant that they finally [[figure it out]].
"Shut. Up!" they exclaim, eyebrows rising almost into their hairline, which they've modded in a flame-bright red-and-orange and slicked up into a swirling tower.
You grin and hold the door of the buggy open with an exaggerated bow. "[[Only the best for the best]]."
Stepping out of the buggy and into the interior of <em>Chateau d'Or</em>'s golden dome is like stepping onto another planet.
The inside of the dome has been covered over with a dynamic virtual sky-scape from Earth, while some complicated system somewhere generates wisps of actual cloud that drift gently about and — is that a <em>bird</em>?!
Through these marvels, you can see glimpses of a sky that's shockingly azure compared to the dirty blue of Mars's native atmosphere.
The regolith has been heavily landscaped, as well, with lush green lawns rolling gently to the edge of the dome and even a few slopes lined with grapevines — from which <em>Chateau d'Or</em> brews its signature wines.
The two of you unlatch the helmets of your surface suits and spend a few moments breathing in all this beauty — even the air seems fresher here than in the regular domes —, then enter the restaurant itself and [[take your reserved seat]]. She's barely reached the second verse before the kitchen doors bang open to reveal two well-muscled security staffers. One carries a burst-rod, the other a pair of electro-clamps.
Demia raises their hand to their mouth.
You...
<nav>
<ul class="twofer">
<li>[[aren't surprised<-Stand Up]]</li>
<li>[[feel bad<-Stay Silent]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>You aren't surprised by any of this.
You half-expected it, even when you made the reservation.
The laws are clear that all protests must receive a permit and be held in designated protest areas. But all those areas are in out-of-the-way domes where nobody but protestors and the occasional journalist ever venture.
And, of course, the permits are only ever given to the right kind of protestor, the right kind of person. If you're too poor for the fees, or non-male, non-white, a radical, an immigrant, some other kind of malcontent, you don't stand [[a firefly's chance in space]] of having your application approved.
You feel bad for the woman, of course — who wouldn't? But the rules are simple, and she should have known better than to cause a fuss somewhere like this.
<em>You</em> certainly know better. As the staffers converge on her, you look away, feeling something in your gut [[you tell yourself is empathy]].
But expecting things and seeing them are different.
Your stomach clenches at the idea of eating this overpriced food in this artificial paradise while someone gets arrested or electrocuted because she's tired. Because she wants — needs — change.
As the security staffers cross the dining area, you push back your chair with a scrape that echoes across the suddenly-silent room and step into their path, hoping you're not [[shaking as visibly as it feels like you are]].
Neither of them slows down, and a rivulet of sweat trickles down the back of your rented suit. Do you really want to spend Demia's birthday being beaten and thrown in jail?
Then Demia steps up and [[takes your hand]].
You grin as the staffers look at one another and come to a reluctant stop.
"Is this the kind of treatment <em>Chateau d'Or</em> gives its staff?" you ask, louder than necessary. "Its <em>customers</em>?"
The people at the other tables murmur, and you can hear the rustle of people activating their augments or — in a few cases — taking out handheld devices to record the coming confrontation.
Demia gives your hand a squeeze, then hurries to the table where the woman is still reciting her protest song, [[their heels clacking]].
"You know how much I paid to be here?" you continue, spreading your arms, taking a step forward. "You know how bad it will be when this goes viral?
They could take you out in the blink of an eye and they have to know it, but you're guessing — hoping — that the restaurant has [[stricter rules on assaulting customers]] than it does its own employees.
The stand-off holds, and you wait until Demia's hustled the woman out of the restaurant before following as quickly as you can.
You've forfeited your expensive dinner, and Demia's left their coat behind, but as the three of you duck into a transit buggy you feel energized more than upset.
[[Some things are worth more than others.]]
A few sols later, Demia buzzes you over your augment.
"There's a march," they say. "A big one."
It's not even a question. But then, it doesn't really need to be.
You...
<nav>
<ul class="threefer">
<li>[[at your place<-Stand Up]]</li>
<li>[[jittery<-Stand By]]</li>
<li>[[look down<-Stay Silent]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>"I... I can't," you say. "I'm still jittery from that stupid restaurant."
"That's okay," Demia says. "Self-care's important too."
"No," you say. "I mean, yeah." You're blathering, and you tap your augment to help yourself focus. "I'll monitor the public streams, anyway. I can buzz you with intel if it looks like security's [[starting to move]]."
"I'll meet you at your place," you reply.
They sign off with a grin, and you grab your coat and an environment helmet, pull a couple bottles of water and some protein bars from the foodcyc unit, and head out the door.
Their place is on the far side of your dome — only a short trip on the transit line — but you want to be sure you get there early, before security starts monitoring who's using the system and detaining those who look suspicious.
[[Like hell you'll let them do this alone.]]You look down, avoiding their eyes.
You did okay in the <em>Chateau d'Or</em>, but that was the heat of the moment. Now...?
Well, now it's different.
You...
<nav>
<ul class="twofer">
<li>[[heat of the moment<-Stand Up]]</li>
<li>[[Have better things to do<-Stay Silent]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>Demia grins. "You're the best!"
You start a passive scanning routine on your augment, forcing down some food from the foodcyc unit while it runs in the background.
To take the edge off, you even prepare some tea with the dried leaves your parents gifted you when you emigrated. Soon, the smell of steeping Ceylon fills your apartment — <em>so</em> much better than the dirty water the foodcyc calls tea.
Finally, you make yourself comfortable on your front room's beat-up couch. [[It's going to be a long night]].
You monitor the streams for hours, waiting anxiously for your passive scan to pick up security chatter as you watch a huge number of protestors march through the regolith, converging on the dome over First Landing Plaza.
It's late when you finally picks something up--an access link into a stream from one of the staffers guarding the airlock for the dome that covers First Landing Plaza.
The stream's marked as private, but this guy either screwed up his settings or he's got sympathies for the protestors because [[you can access it just fine]]."Watch out," you buzz Demia. "They just got the order to respond with force."
You hear Demia send out the update on her local stream and the crowd surges backward one segment at a time.
A moment later you hear a loud bang from the public coverage you're watching on your augment, followed by Demia's swearing, by their shouting over their local stream to stay calm, to give security some space.
Someone must have thrown a crowd-suppression device. Stomach in a knot, you check the security stream again then push it anonymously to several public streams.
The seconds tick away, and [[the watch numbers tick steadily upwards]].Nearly a minute passes, and then the security stream winks out. Someone must have realized what was happening. You scan other streams, frantic, but then you realize something--an aerial stream shows the security team heading for the lock.
"They're breaking," you pass along. "They're going to open the dome!"
"I see it!" Demia replies. [["They're leaving!"]]
endingtwo:true
--
The evening stretches on into night, and by the time Demia buzzes you to say the protest is over and they're going home to rest, you're too exhausted to feel anything but dull relief.
You wish you'd been able to do more, but not everybody can, and support is support. You have a feeling you'll be giving more of it in the months to come.
END
<nav>
<ul class="single">
<li>[[Stand up]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>The start point for the march is dense with people--there must be a quarter of the habitat here, at least.
Somehow, you find Demia in the throng, and they fill you in on the plan: a walk through the regolith, each of you filling the public stream with protest songs and speeches, and then a mass gathering at [[First Landing Plaza.]]"We'll break in if we have to," Demia says, eyes fiery. "We'll make them listen to us. We'll make them change."
You squeeze their hand, and then [[the march is on]].
At first, everything is peaceful, and you and Demia join the other marchers in filling the public stream with your voices.
As you reach First Landing Plaza, though, the mood changes. A wall of security staffers stands between you and the dome. Worse, they're armed and visibly agitated. You barely have time to register them before something explodes in the air nearby, knocking you sideways.
You struggle against the ringing in your ear, against the press of the crowd. You need to stand up. Get moving.
But you can't.
[[Then someone reaches down a hand.]]
It's the woman from the restaurant--she pulls you up, grip firm.
You thank her, then shake your head to clear it. A few meters away Demia is helping an elderly man to his feet; you see others all around you doing the same. Together, you lock arms. [[Together, you take a step forward]].endingone:true
--
The security staffers huddle up close, no doubt consulting with their supervisor. Then they break and run, the lock to First Landing Plaza's dome slides open, and the stream is overcome with jubilation.
As you get in line to go through the lock, you know the march--the need to protest--isn't over. Maybe it never will be.
But you've made a start, together.
END
<nav>
<ul class="single">
<li>[[Stand up]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>It must show in your face, because Demia's softens. "Hey," they say. "It's okay if you can't."
"But I want to help," you reply, your voice hoarse. "Is there a fund I can send credits to? Somewhere I could drop off supplies?"
They grin, and if it doesn't quite banish your anxiety it helps. "I'll come over and get them," they say.
As they sign off, you take [[deep, slow breaths]].
endingthree:true
--
The evening stretches on into night, and by the time Demia buzzes you to say the protest is over and they're going home to rest, you're too exhausted to feel anything but dull relief.
You wish you'd been able to do more, but not everybody can, and support is support. You have a feeling you'll be giving more of it in the months to come.
END
<nav>
<ul class="single">
<li>[[Stand up]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>Demia, though, scrapes back their chair and jerks to their feet, eyes as aflame as their hair. You scramble to your feet before they can say anything, turn them away from the impending action with a firm grip on their arms.
"Let me go," they snap, struggling against you.
[[But you don't.]]
As the staffers drag the woman out, you speak in a reassuring voice in Demia's ear about it being the woman's own fault, how they shouldn't get themselves in trouble for someone else's choice.
You say how much you need them.
What it'll do to you if they get arrested. Especially if it's because you chose to take them to <em>Chateau d'Or</em> on the one stupid night one of their employees decided to [[break the rules]].
As the staffer leaves, you sit back down and let out a long, slow breath. Demia will thank you later. It wouldn't have done that woman any good to have a companion on her trip to jail. And so long as Demia's free, they can work against the system from within. First thing tomorrow, you'll both apply for a permit to protest the woman's arrest.
You tell yourself these things until Demia's apéritif arrives a few minutes later, but they never come back from the bathroom.
You force yourself through the rest of your meal and [[leave for home, alone]].demia: 'ghost'
--
A few sols later, Demia's still ghosting you, and you're browsing the streams with your augment to see if there's anything fun going on.
Most of them are full up with [[coverage of a planned march]], and you think of your ruined dinner at the <em>Chateau d'Or</em> with a grimace.
Then you stumble onto Demia's public stream, and you stop.
You want to make sure they're safe, you tell yourself. That's all. Besides, if this thing's coming your way you should know about it.
"...to First Landing Plaza," Demia is saying. "We'll break the side of the dome and go in through the plasteel itself if they deny us access to the locks. If you're out there and you're watching from home--no matter who you are--please join us. We need everybody we can get for this to succeed."
Your augment's in passive mode, so they can't be talking <em>to you</em>, but it's unnerving all the same.
You...
<nav>
<ul class="twofer">
<li>[[so what<-Stand Up]]</li>
<li>[[hands shaking<-Stay Silent]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>[if demia === 'ghost']
So what if Demia's ghosting you?
[else]
So what if Demia was pissed earlier?
[continue]
You've been an ass.
Anyway, this isn't about you.
You grab some supplies and an environment helmet and [[head out the door]].
Hands shaking, you disconnect from the stream.
The silence that replaces it is deafening, accusatory, but you tell yourself at least you'll be safe.
And that's what matters most.
[[Right?]]
You finally find a stream channel that's showing classic comedies and settle in for the evening.
You've nearly forgotten about the march when the noises start up in the street outside--shouts, loud bangs, people screaming for help. You cut all the lights and duck behind your sofa, heart pounding, [[waiting for it to pass.]]
endingfive:true
--
But it doesn't. A few minutes later, someone's pounding on your door. Your home security stream shows a few dozen burly-looking types kitted out in riot gear. One kicks the door down while you watch, and you cower down deeper.
You don't know why they're here, what they think you've done.
Then again, maybe they're just doing this to everybody. It doesn't really matter. There's nothing you can do about it, anyway.
END
<nav>
<ul class="single">
<li>[[Stand up]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>The march has already started when you arrive.
It's not as crowded as Demia made it seem, and you work yourself into the back of the group, not wanting to run into them. For a while everything is peaceful, your fellow marchers sending speeches and songs out on the open stream as you walk through the regolith.
Then you reach the dome [[around First Landing Plaza]]. It's crawling with security, and the march stalls. One of the security throws something, and the crowd breaks, panicked.
You scramble backwards, but it's too late--the projectile erupts with a concussive burst of air that knocks you to the ground, stunned, wrenching your ankle as you go. Around you, others are standing, although whether it's to run or to put up a fight you can't be sure.
You...
<nav>
<ul class="twofer">
<li>[[can't stand<-Stand Up]]</li>
<li>[[can't stand<-Stay Silent]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>You can't find your feet, can't stand.
As security steps towards you, burst-rods out, you can't help think that maybe, somewhere out there, there are others like you. Others who didn't want to get involved. Who didn't think it was worth their time until it was [[too late]].
endingfour:true
--
If more people had stood up for the march, maybe things would have turned out differently. Maybe you wouldn't be here on the ground. Maybe the march wouldn't even have been necessary.
Then again, you're hardly blameless. If you'd seen past your own inconveniences earlier, maybe there would have been someone there to help <em>you</em>. Someone to reach down and get you on your feet.
You guess you'll never know.
END
<nav>
<ul class="single">
<li>[[Stand up]]</li>
</ul>
</nav>Someone taps you on the back and you nearly jump out of your skin.
"Problem, sir?" It's the staffer with the burst rod.
"Not at all," you manage, contorting your face into something like a smile. "My partner suddenly felt ill. Could you direct me to the bathroom?"
"Let me <em>go</em>," Demia says, louder this time, and pulls themself free of you. Their face is flushed an ugly crimson as they [[stomp towards the bathroom]].<h2 class="center">Thanks to...</h2>
Caias Ward and Douglas DiCicco for playtesting.
This game is not affiliated with, endorsed by, or otherwise associated with any group, political or otherwise.
[[Stand up]].
<h2>Reuse permitted</h2>
<a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/"><img alt="Creative Commons License" style="border-width:0" src="https://i.creativecommons.org/l/by/4.0/88x31.png" /></a><br /><span xmlns:dct="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" href="http://purl.org/dc/dcmitype/InteractiveResource" property="dct:title" rel="dct:type">Stand Up / Stay Silent</span> by <span xmlns:cc="http://creativecommons.org/ns#" property="cc:attributionName">Y Ceffyl Gwyn</span> is licensed under a <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/">Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License</a>.endingsunlocked:0
endingsunlocked (endingone === true): endingsunlocked + 1
endingsunlocked (endingtwo === true): endingsunlocked + 1
endingsunlocked (endingthree === true): endingsunlocked + 1
endingsunlocked (endingfour === true): endingsunlocked + 1
endingsunlocked (endingfive === true): endingsunlocked + 1
--
<h1>Endings</h1>
{endingsunlocked} / 5 endings unlocked
<ul style="list-type:none;font-size:18px;margin-after:18px;">
[if endingone===true]
<li>Marcher</li>
[continue]
[if endingtwo===true]
<li>Eye in the sky</li>
[continue]
[if endingthree===true]
<li>Donator</li>
[continue]
[if endingfour===true]
<li>Better late than never</li>
[continue]
[if endingfive===true]
<li>Self-absorbed</li>
</ul>
[continue]
[[Back to game->Untitled Passage]]<h1>Black lives matter.</h1>
That's a statement of human rights, not politics, <a target="_blank" href="https://www.google.com/search?q=black+lives+matter+is+not+a+political+statement&rlz=1C1GCEV_en&oq=black+lives+matter+is+not+a+political+statement">to paraphrase a bunch of people</a>.
Links on this page are to external websites and will open in a new tab. Links need not be clicked to successfully play through [[the game->Fakestartscreen]].
<h3>Educate yourself</h3>
<a target="_blank" href="https://www.seiu-uhw.org/black-lives-matter-resources-for-allies/">Resources for Allies from SEIU United Healthcare Workers West</a>
<a target="_blank" href="https://www.projecthome.org/anti-racism-resources">Anti-racism resources from Project Home</a>
<a target="_blank" href="https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2019/12/20/magazine/1619-intro.html">1619 Project from the <em>New York Times</em></a> (requires a subscription)
<h3>Donate</h3>
<a target="_blank" href="https://secure.actblue.com/donate/ms_blm_homepage_2019">BLM Donate page</a>
<a target="_blank" href="https://bailfunds.github.io/">Comprehensive list of bail funds for protestors in the US</a>
<h3>Take action</h3>
<a target="_blank" href="https://blacklivesmatter.com/global-actions/">BLM: Take Action page</a>
<a target="_blank" href="https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/#protesters">"For Protestors" page at blacklivesmatters.carrd.co</a>
<h3>More resources</h3>
<a target="_blank" href="https://repeller.com/black-lives-matter-resources/">BLM Resources from <em>Repeller</em></a>
<a target="_blank" href="https://greatergood.berkeley.edu/article/item/antiracist_resources_from_greater_good">Antiracist resources from Berkeley University's <em>Greater Good Magazine</em></a>, including resources for parents, educators, and on unconscious biases
<a target="_blank" href="https://www.washington.edu/raceequity/resources/anti-racism-resources/">Antiracist resources from University of Washington</a></em>
<nav>
<ul class="single">
[if endingone || endingtwo || endingthree || endingfour || endingfive]
<li>[[Title screen->Untitled Passage]]</li>
[else]
<li>[[Title screen->Fakestartscreen]]</li>
[continue]
</ul>
</nav>You've just ordered Demia an apéritif that costs more than you make in three hours when the commotion starts — one of the waitstaff is standing on a table in the middle of the room, mumbling something that sounds like a protest song.
She's speaking so quietly you can't make out the words, but [[that doesn't matter]]. Not in a place like <em>Chateau d'Or</em>.
You did okay in the <em>Chateau d'Or</em>, but that was the heat of the moment.
Now, your mind is racing, your heart trying to make it seem slow. [[Your mouth's as dry as space]] just thinking about <em>watching</em> something as big as a march.You've spent the time since <em>Chateau d'Or</em> thinking it over, and while you don't <em>regret</em> helping that woman, exactly, you're kind of pissed she didn't even offer to pay you back for your meal.
You have better things to do tonight than stand up for someone who can't even show gratitude.
"I'd love to help," you tell Demia. "Really I would. [[But, uh...]]"
demia: 'hard'
--
Some of what you're thinking must show in your face, because Demia's hardens.
"It's fine," they say. "No need to go out of your way. Bye."
They disconnect, and you spend a little time moping about on your age-worn sofa before you snap out of it.
Maybe it's better this way. If Demia's so extreme they won't even consider someone else's point of view, did you really want a relationship with them anyway?
Trying to put them out of your mind, you browse the streams with your augment to see if there's anything <em>fun</em> going on instead.
Most of the streams are filled with [[coverage of a planned march<-coverage of the march]], though, and you flick through them with increasing frustration. config.style.page.font: "Iowan Old Style/Constantia/Georgia/serif 18"
config.style.page.color: "white on #212121"
config.style.page.link.font: "underline"
config.style.page.link.color: "#FF8AAD"
config.style.page.link.lineColor: "#FF8AAD"
config.style.page.link.active.color: "white on #212121"
config.style.page.header.font: "16"
config.style.page.header.link.font: "small caps"
config.style.page.footer.font: "16"
config.style.page.footer.link.font: "small caps"
endingone:false
endingtwo:false
endingthree:false
endingfour:false
endingfive:false
--
<nav>
<ul class="twofer">
<li>Stand Up</li>
<li>Stay Silent</li>
</ul>
</nav>
<h2 class="subtitle center"><span>A Fable</span></h2>
<span class="startbutton">[[start]]</span>
<span class="creditsbutton">[[credits]]</span>