Anarchy of the Age; Purge Based RP.

[ Participants:ALL SPOTS ARE FILLED ]

Salem, Massachusetts.- 2022, May 31st.
Time of Purge- 6:00 PM, Nightfall.
Weather- Clear skies, cool breeze.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if there's anybody here this afternoon who's feeling nervous, apprehensive and queasy at the thought of what lies ahead, just let it all go. some of you will make it out alive, others will not. This is the Purge, all anarchy is legal.What will you do tonight? It's all legal. You could murder your boss, or maybe steal a car. Sounds tempting, doesn't it? Well, there won't be any consequences for what you do tonight. So go ahead. Free the beast inside you and Purge. Your government wants you to. "

It is the year 2022, crime is down, employment is up, and the general population seems content and happy – and there is a very distinct reason for this. For one night, every year, the entire population is allowed to “purge” themselves and give in to any evil or violent tendencies they may have been suppressing in favor of such a well mannered society. The yearly purge is a 12-hour period where all crime, including murder, is legalized. During the 12-hour period in which the purge has commenced, all emergency services will be disabled. To each their own. This rebirth has all but eliminated crime and reduced poverty. Many people attribute this more civilized society to yearly “purges” in which all crime is legal for 12 hours. People can indulge their essentially violent natures, with no legal repercussions. Some go “hunting,” not for ducks or deer, but in search of bigger game such as less fortunate humans. Maiming, torture and murder ensue, while all rescue operations are suspended for the night.

But that doesn't stop radio chatter or TV pundits from opining on whether the purge is a way of encouraging the survival of the richest, since the poor are usually the targets. Those who opt out of the weekly carnage festival place blue flowers by their doors, indicating they “support” the purge. The message is that while they may not personally wreak havoc, they’re fine with other people doing so. Some even go as far as hosting “purge parties.” As the elite of Salem begin to prepare their homes for lock down with their fortress-like security systems, the poor pray for their lives. There are those who would much rather spend their 12-hours taking advantage of other crimes, such as robbery and recreational drug use. And there are those who find a way to save their life. Whether that means fighting for their own life or hiding away.

Andrei:

The sound of grinding metal and stone went unheard in the basement of Andrei's house. His little shack on the outskirts of Salem, unknown to most of Salem it's location exactly. You'd have to be drunk and lost out in the woods to find it there. Though, he was a bit paranoid so often times he wouldn't even be here. Rather, he would have gone to his Brother's house, but, it didn't even seem as if his brother was too interested in tonight's events. Hell, he hadn't seen him in ages, so, it was whatever. However, he did invite someone over for tonight's events. They were going to go into town for a bit of fun. However, he knew that there were probably going to be people out there wanting to kill him. He wasn't exactly one of the well liked people in this town.

Andrei was a drunkard, and a very violent man. He was known for picking up younger men and then leaving them on the edge of town broken, beaten, and stitched up. The town was disgusted with him, but they never did anything about it. But, who knows, maybe this year would be different. So, as it were, Andrei sat there sharpening the machete he always carried during the Purge. There was an hour to go, and he hadn't even loaded up the AF2011-A1 Second Sentry. This double barrel hand gun was a favorite of him. A special piece that he always put away after the Purge. At first, to an untrained eye this gun would look like two .45 Colts welded together, but upon closer inspection they would see that it's not.It was carefully molded into one piece. The kick from this gun is not for the weak hearted, and the punch it offers is a direct hit that would knock anyone on their ass.

Moments later, while music blasted in the basement of his home, Andrei put the machete into the sheathed holster on his right hip. He was pretty sure that it was just fine, well, as fine as it needed to be. So, he picked up his Second Sentry, and buckled it to his hip. Tonight was going to be a very decent night. But, he needed the rest of the fuckers to get their lazy asses out here to his house so they could get their little wild party together. So, while he waited around, Andrei had picked up a ballistics vest, and placed it on over bare chest. He wasn't going to bother wearing a shirt tonight. Couldn't spare anymore shirts to this Purge shit. Once it was Velcro on, Andrei went upstairs to see if Lorem was ready yet. Dumbass couldn't even get home last night after their little pre-purge party.

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Lorem:

Lorem was a nurse at the local Salem Hospital, and he had been the one that would end up stitching up Andrei when he got into some scuffles. The two had become best friends in the end, even to the point that some night, after a drunken stupor, they lay with each other in bed. However, last night, Lorem rested on the couch after passing out. Though, now he was awake, only an hour to go before the Purge begins. His job? To keep Andrei and his friend's alive by being their spotter. Oh, what a lovely little job, not. Luckily, Lorem was decent with a sniper rifle, one that Andrei got for him a couple years back. Oh, Lorem had one hell of a headache from last night's giddy up and go party with Andrei in the basement. He was sore from the neck down, and had a hangover.

He stood up, raising himself from the couch with a groan. There, on the table was his oh so lovely gift, that damn sniper rifle. He sighed, before looking towards the basement which had music blaring from it as if they weren't just about a foot away from being partially deaf anyways. He grumbled, then headed for the kitchen when he heard the basement door open up. Here comes trouble. Now, just to be clear, there was no love interest, it was merely a way for the two of them to release pent up aggression on one another. Anyhow, Lorem stood that the kitchen counter making coffee, all while debating on asking Andrei where they planned to go tonight. And when the other two would get their asses here.

Danica

“... So, Roy! What are you doing this fine purge!?”

The chirpy voice of the presenter grated on Danica’s already frayed nerves. She turned away from the television in the corner of the office of the hospital, flicked her gaze to the other women that hovered there and tried not to think that any one of them might be willing to kill her this evening. A mental scan yielded memories where she had tried to be as pleasant as possible to them all since the last purge, but even the nicest people garner enemies; the purge enabled the psychopaths , the degenerates, the criminals. Every year when it approached Danica found herself suspicious of the people surrounding her, even family.

The day after was always horrendous, broken bodies piled in to be put straight to the morgue. Emergency services were pushed to the brink. Although she went through the process of placing a blue carnation – her favourite – by her door each year, she didn’t believe in the heinous practise at all. People took advantage of it; crime was down because people were too frightened to offend anyone lest they not make it through the next purge. In Danica’s opinion it was a brutal way to deal with rising discord among the citizens – Surely there was another way?

As the hours ticked by on the clock she became increasingly nervous. She had mid-range security on her little house. It could withstand a fair amount of attack but nothing is guaranteed – or so the fat, waddling little man had told her breasts the previous week; between gawking, he had been trying to sell her the upgrade, but you couldn’t do it without a further two grand for a security deposit. She was struggling through med school as it was, any extra she had went to the debt collectors. Although she wasn’t happy about it, it was the way things were.

One last check on her watch revealed that it had only moved forward a few minutes.  With a sigh she pushed herself from the chair and hustled towards the door. Now wasn’t the time for idle thoughts on what might happen, she needed to hook with Lorem to do the afternoon rounds.

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Rhidian

The news room was fucking buzzing. Talk of the purge had been amping the place up for days, advertising it, the weapons that had been invented purely for the twelve hour period – the interviews with both the participants and the people that wanted no part of the actual violence, the newspaper had covered it all. Having not participated in the Purge previous years, Rhidian had listened to the interviewee’s with growing interest. It had been the subject of various debates over the years in the news room and this year, for once, Rhidian was all for it.

See, that fucker Joe Handley had gotten the promotion that Rhidian had worked his ass off for. Joe was going down. After all the research that the team had done on the participants and the victims, Rhidian felt sure that he would have the position by morning. He knew the weasely little fucker considered himself above security systems – in fact he was also a participant in the fun little games that the government organised, which was all the more reason that Rhidian cut his throat out. For Rhidian it seemed like a necessity – for Joe it was pure unadulterated fun.

“Rhidian! Office. Now, I want a rundown on that feature you have in the works.”

Snapped out of his reverie by the boss, he grabbed his note pad, pen and hustled. See, he wouldn’t just be killing Joe – He’d be writing about it as well. The way of the world; his boss knew exactly what he had planned but it’d make him so much cash that he wouldn’t rat him out, the catch? He couldn’t just stop at Joe, it had to be total participation in the night’s events with a no holds barred run down in the morning, nothing censored. See, Rhidian might go down in flames but the benefits outweighed the risks. If he made it, this time next year he’d be in the big apple playing with the actual players. That’s all he’d ever wanted from life, not this backwoods hick dump.

His plan was to eliminate Joe early in the game then maybe hook it with a group that did this shit for fun. Hopefully everything would align.

Hunter

Hunter watched doctors and their nurses bustle about the hospital, quickly stitching and patching people up before they clocked out and made the drive home. Businesses were always hectic the night preceding and following the Purge and that included smaller, family owned businesses like the Howley bar Hunter and his twin brother Vinnie ran. Tonight was no different than any other pre-Purge night either, he'd caught a broken bottle over his eyebrow and a few knuckles to the mouth that succeeded in splitting his lip open.

The pretty blond nurse with her hair done up in a high bun that fixed him up seemed, like most that tended to his injuries, a bit put off by the Howley boy. Back in Long Island where he was from no one would've batted an eye at his tattoos, and they all knew the story behind them. Prison. Big boy prison. But the nurse appeared unwilling to go near the tear drop beneath his right eye like it were the source of some nasty plague, but to compensate took her fill of staring at the ink covering his chiseled body. As if he didn't notice.

When he was finally released Hunter swiftly made for his ride home, and with few words exchanged between him and the coworker driving it they sped down packed streets towards his apartment building. There he hoped to live out the rest of the day quietly, but always kept a pair of brass knuckles in his pocket just in case a tweaker decided to break in. Sighing he thanked the man and hurried into his tiny, one bed room apartment and bolted the door behind him.

HABIT

"Drip, drop, slice and chop. Run little rabbits, hop, hop, hop. You can hide, I don't care... I can find you anywhere."

An eerily gritty voice sang to itself cheerfully between the shrieks of metal being held against a sharpening wheel. Standing there in the dim light of a tool shed was HABIT. Well, that wasn't his real name, but no one knew what that was. All they knew was that he was a violent schizophrenic prone fits of rage that usually ended up in the multiple injuries, or deaths of, anyone that got in his way. With a wild smile the red-head admired the edge on his machete before stuffing it back into its sheath so he could work on his bowie knife.

Tonight was a special night for him. Tonight HABIT could cleanse the city of Salem of the "unclean" as he called them. Degenerates, street filth, pharmaceutical lap dogs, everyone that presented a threat to the betterment of humanity, and he wasn't alone. Maybe in ideology, Andrei wasn't much of a thinker, but birds of a feather. Suddenly a weak whimper sounded behind him, jerking HABIT from what he was doing with a scowl.

Bound by wrists and ankles was a slight figure obscured by the shadows. The voice, however faint, was male. A poor soul that just so happened to wander by the quaint little Salem home and was snatched up by HABIT. His wicked gold eyes came to life with excitement when he turned to face the young man struggling against the restraints and trying to inch his way away from the keen edge of a knife drawing closer to his face.

"Only a few more hours, rabbit. Do you know where we're going tonight? DO YOU KNOW, RABBIT?"

The frightened meat sack just stared, wide-eyed at him and jumped, quickly shaking his head when HABIT yelled at him.

"We're going to a party. Andrei will be there, and I heard Lorem will be there too, but if you ask me Lorem is a bit of a pussy. Lock the doors while I'm out rabbit, wouldn't want anyone stealing you from me."

With that HABIT turned and headed out the door, leaving the terrified man where he was in the shed, and headed for Andrei's mumbling to himself the whole way there. If he was lucky he could beat the foot traffic along the deserted sidewalks.