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purgeooc2017-04-27 01:56 pm
foundingfathers) wrote in purgeooc2017-04-27 01:56 pm
Entry tags:
test drive meme #001
Waking up in the warehouse is extremely uncomfortable. It’s warm, stifling even, and as you open your eyes, you realize two things: you’re somehow standing and you’re not alone. The room is filled with people grouped at its center, and like you, they are blinking into consciousness and wearing similar expressions of confusion and distress. To the left and right there are closed doors, a man and woman at both; their clothing and demeanour are widely different. The left is clearly upper class while the right is lower class. At the top of the room is a stage adorned in red, white, and blue banners with NFFA in block letters so large that it’s visible from the very back. What is the NFFA, you ask? Within minutes, a man that gives off a ‘Republican senator’ vibe steps up to the podium and begins to speak. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers for letting us Purge and cleanse our souls. Blessed be America, a nation reborn. Hello and welcome to the city. After fifteen successful purges, we are at a standstill. The New Founding Fathers have found a way to bring you here to promote a higher response in participation. Annually, for one night, any and all crime is legal, including murder. Everyone has the right to purge, and in doing so, you become the best you that you can be. During peace times, crime is lower than five percent and United States citizens know true harmony. Once he steps down, a woman takes his place and explains further, though in a less formal fashion. Everyone must choose. Pro-purge is anyone that will be actively participating - this means murder, specifically, though all other crimes are still allowed. There will be consequences for anyone who chooses the pro side and then doesn’t purge properly. Anyone who is in full support of the purge and completes three successful purges may go home. Those who choose the anti-purge side, anyone that doesn’t want to kill or believe in the NFFA’s right to purge, are not given this same incentive. All are given time to think it out. They can speak to one another for as long as they need. Any unrest will be not be tolerated. After everyone has chosen, the anti-purge side exit and are picked up in old buses and vans to be taken to old apartment buildings with basic necessities; there is no reception but are told exactly how it is by veteran Purge survivors. They must get a job and earn money to protect themselves during The Purge that cycles every two months. Those who choose the pro-purge side are chauffeured in limousines to fancy hotels with even nicer accommodations and are welcomed with an extravagant party as well as motivation to purge: you have to purge. |
Throughout the year - and especially now that there is a two month period of peace and preparation - all citizens are allowed to advertise their needs as is sanctioned by the United States Government by any means; Craigslist, Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, newspapers, the big screens in Times Square, etc. These advertisements may come in many forms, such as a person looking to pay another (with very specific appearance and background) to allow them to purge them. Payments are legal and binding. The purger might request that they kill, torture, and other various acts—all is legal on Purge Night. Advertisements may be as simple as looking for a partner to purge with or someone to help fortify a house or vehicle. There is no limit to what advertisements may be made. It is the right of every citizen. Blessed be America, a nation reborn. |
no subject
But there's someone, right here next to him, looking dainty and like a lie. A future purger, like him - if he ever goes through with it. He's not yet decided.]
Is it productive to reward peace? [He asks, words tight but something genuine behind it.] Haven't we tried that, before? Time and time again, to no avail?
[Ronan's not been at peace in a long time, for long enough that he forgot how it feels. But the world's been in the same state. Pretending to want peace, anxiously waiting for the first opportunity to throw the first punch. Peace is an illusion.]
no subject
Have we? [Not doubtful, necessarily, but she's curious about his reasoning, because:] War is incredibly profitable, as is crime. We pretend to reward peace, but we allow people to profit from violence.
[She's built an empire on it, after all.]
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Peace is the ultimate reward, in and of itself. It's what we all pretend we want.
[Ronan's too angry for peace, his mind too full of storms and nightmares. He wishes he could be asleep right now, back in Cabeswater.]
But if violence is incredibly profitable, it's not counterproductive to reward it. What's counterproductive is to try and end it.
no subject
The solution would be to stop allowing people to profit it from it.
[The implication in her tone is fairly obvious; what they're doing here is making it even more profitable. They seem to have constructed their social classes around violence, allowing those who are more violent to gain more power, which is perhaps the most troubling part of this.]
no subject
I think we're in too deep, here, to be delusional.
[And she doesn't look like she's delusional. She looks in control, like she knows exactly what she's doing here, or what she'll do once she's out there. Ronan's still considering the possibilities. Crashing into him is akin to exposing yourself to jagged rocks on a dangerous shore, but he's not a murderer.
He's wanted to be, a few times.
There's a waiter, and Ronan grabs another tumbler, the amber liquid it contains sloshing up its sides, threatening to spill. Then, he tips it towards Max.]
Bottoms up.
no subject
And everyone's afraid of monsters in the dark, that's what Max has to be.
She smiles as Ronan drinks, not partaking in any alcohol herself despite the desire to. Without her powers, she can't neutralize it quickly.]
What's your name, sweetheart?
[There's amusement there, like she knows how ridiculous that sweetheart sounds.]
no subject
He wishes he could dream a weapon that could get rid of them, and only them. Whatever cancer this society is suffering from. Maybe that's what it needs; a weapon to get rid of this NFFA. Back home, Ronan could just dream himself a way out.
Not here.
The sweetheart makes him grimace; a half smile that's a lot more teeth than gentleness. He puts his glass down on another passing tray, nostrils flaring in a warning.]
Ronan. [And there's nothing sweet about him, he doesn't say.]
What about you, darlin'? [He pushes the Virginia accent into the last word, sounding more like Adam than he ever has before. It sounds just as ridiculous as her sweetheart.]