Now you sit and think about it...Politics is somewhat like war. Despite the supposed decorum and civility that the formal procedures and the grand buildings suggest, and the public expects, in reality, there is no profession that you can think of that encourages such naked displays of animosity; heated arguments, once a method of conduct frowned upon by the high-brow followers of the machinations of how a country is run, it has now become the norm.
Even the vast majority of chambers that hold discourse are now designed to separate the combatants into their parties; which stand together like armies, staring each other down on a daily basis. The clashes of words between the members seem like common swordfights on a battlefield, while the harsh soundbites presented on various factionalistic news programs afterwards sear through the air like wild cannonfire, often indiscriminate on who or what it attacks, as long as it damages the opposing army.
And just like war, where the dead tell no tales, once your career has been curtailed by an injury to your standing, if the stinging barbs from your opponents nicks the skin of your ego, and the secrets that all people hold spill like blood onto the chamber, you're finished. No matter what you say, your pleading and protesting voice is drowned out by the heckles, catcalls and ridicule that echoes from all sides of the combat zone. Once you're dead in politics, nobody hears.
---
A man, who in this field, is all too aware of the common accusation of not caring about the people he is supposed to represent, is working late in his office tonight. To be fair to Nick Clegg, while it may sometimes appear he is only interested in advancing his own self-fulfilling purpose within his career, he does try to listen to what his constituents, the people he works for, has to say; he does have good intentions at heart. But unfortunately, a flaw of his has always been a one-track mind. For much of the time he is beleaguered by requests and information from his advisers and his populace, his mind is elsewhere, it's thinking to the next big meeting, or the important long-term objective he is trying to achieve.
Even now, working late here, he's breaking a promise to his wife, and he knows it, his brow sweats with the probable stewing his wife is doing right now, the mild, indirect aloofness she always possesses for a demeanor when he finally gets back home after doing this. He knows he must focus on this report sent in, for a decision to be made tomorrow. That's just how it is...people may think they are speaking to him and influencing his opinion, and molding a decision being worked over in his head; but, in reality, nobody hears...
The door creaks, and a shadow traipses into the room. The entity there, seems almost to eminate no light or even presence at all, it is afforded a few seconds to study the scene in front of him, to take in the air, to take in a silent breath of it and to narrow his eyes towards his prey, akin to a fox stalking a chicken he aims to take down, he does this before he is even noticed.
Nick's tentative voice becomes the only thing to pierce the dark, dark that the soft lamplight barely diffuses into, at the corner of the room where the mysterious being stands "Hel..Hello? May I help you?"
The shadow doesn't respond. Instead, it seems to creep in closer, gentle footsteps can be heard treading the ground towards him...
"How did you get in?? Who are you??"
Slowly, a being emerges from the eclipse, his steps towards you becoming bolder, more purposeful as they approach...
"G-g-get back, I'll get security!"
But, there is to be no security anymore for Nick. He suddenly cowers in terror, the fearsome weapon being held by his doombringer shimmers, the edge of it being cast in a sharp, almost dream-like haze of light. But for Nick, it will be his fatal nightmare.
His screams bellow out around the halls of Parliament. Nobody hears...
---
The echo, 8 hours late, is broadcast around the world. It originated from a cleaner, who was unfortunate enough to find Nick's body, in a state as twisted and bloody as the chapter in history it will become a prelude to. His mangled corpse was found, in an ironic twist of fate considering his living reputation, spineless...it had been ripped clean out.
The world plunged into a collective stunned shock at this murder...they all made the connection in their minds nearly straight away. While there was no official announcement from the group "For the People" until several hours later, the public all knew there could only be one possible perpetrator. From the original reverberation of the echo, there was to be absolutely no doubt: These guys were absolutely serious, and the cleaners scream served as their horrific battle cry.
There was no doubt now, the various leaders of the world, they had to take action. They had to communicate, their lives were now at risk, they were running on borrowed time now to capture and destroy the brutal soldiers of terrible and misguided "Reformers". They had to talk and debate and weed out the insurrectionists.
The world watched with baited breath. They were all going to hear...
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We are now officially in Confirmation Stage. Please now post in thread to confirm you all have your role and you understand it, and are ready to play!
Also, I request of you that, while you are doing this, you answer a question for me:
What sort of role do you prefer playing Mafia as?
A) Scum
B) Town
Please post your answer in thread along with your confirmation.
Thank you
![:]](./images/smilies/icon_smiling.png "Cheerful Smile")
