Campaign #OCCUPYGORESTREET| Open To All

[B3-LL]

Location: Steps Of The Senate, Coruscant


Mid-interview, sunlight dawns upon a single blue Senator speaking with a smile to a Rodian journalist and her camera crew.

"Thank you for that question, ma'am. We want to TRIPLE underscore that we're coming to Hero Park peacefully, but whether we are given permits or not, we are coming." Fal was smoking a cigarette on the steps of the Senate building, with a portable ash tray in his right hand that his finger seemed to metronomically tap. With all the confidence and swagger in the world, the firebrand junior Senator from Iskadrell flashed his bright white teeth at the camera lens while listening for the reporter's next question.

"This is the 'GORERILLA ARMY' you're referring to, currently trending on Spacebook?"

"Those are the revolution's most loyal fans, that's what they call themselves, yes." Fal laughed, his eyes darting off to the side as he scratched the stubble on his cheek. "But there's many people affected by the Establishment's corruption and inefficiency. Those without a place in this Galaxy, those tired and poor and huddled masses of the discarded. They want a voice, they've yearned for a voice, and with the revolution they're finding one."

"Tell us more about this 'revolution' you keep referring to, and what you mean by it."

"Well, take a look at our problems, this age of our strife, in today's society. Our leaders breed weakness. The MAW sees it, taking more and more. The Empire sees it, and now they're what - just forcibly annexing our sovereign territory? Why now? Why are all of our enemies so brazen? And why are they increasing in number? Our economy is full tilt. Traffic congestion on Coruscant, Denon, all time high. How long is the blue collar worker's commute? Why are coaxium prices so force-damned high? Why is the rent so goddamned high? I want the answer to these questions. I want to address these questions. And I would love to do it, as our Founders intended, through our Representative's Democratic Republic. Free and fair.

But we're not getting these answers, and our representatives are off cadoodlin' with their celebrity, Jedi, and MegaCorp friends. Stuffing their faces with privilege and gluttony. So, when I get asked, what's the Revolution about, Fal. Why're you guys so angry, what are you trying to achieve?

Something real, ma'am. We're finding our courage. Real revolution, and real change.

...We might have to hurt someone's feelings."

"Are you worried about an overreaction from the police?"

Fal flashed his smile again.

---

#OCCUPY
GORESTREET

The First Night Of #OCCUPYGORESTREET
Hero Park Mall, Coruscant.

"I've never been more proud to be an Ally," Senator Fal Gore shouted to the crowd. "Your voices are as golden, as beautiful to me as an orchestra of jizz music.

THIS IS WHAT REVOLUTION LOOKS LIKE!"
​

The crowd roared. Many in the crowd were wearing G-Unit and #GORERILLA shirts and apparel. A large bouncing ball of a depiction of a gorilla with Fal's face and diamond hands was slowly floating through the crowd. The Senator was standing on a brightly lit makeshift stage near the center of the park, his sleeves rolled up, sweat permeating through his white dress shirt as he ran his hands through his jet black jerry curls.

"We have demands, Senate. They can't ignore them now.

We demand to be heard.

ONE PERSON, ONE VOICE. No more Corpos, executives, suits. No more quid pro quo. No more selling out your base for personal political favors and greed. NO MORE! We want one person, one voice. One droid, one voice. One man, one voice. One woman, one voice. One person, one voice."

A dribble and glowing came from the back of the crowd, and Fal began laughing. "Yes, and one rock, one voice!" he responded to the silicon life form that yelled out. "We are all one voice. We are the revolution. I've been asked several times by the propagandists, my co-workers, the talking heads. How long are you going to stay out there?

AS LONG AS IT TAKES.

They will have to take me away in handcuffs. Put me on the ground, in the mud. Rub my face in it. I can take it. I was born down there, and we can't sink any lower. But I'll be back, again, and again, and again. We have demands, Senate. You can't ignore us. Not one day longer. NOW, TODAY, TONIGHT. NOW, NOW, NOW. We have to make a change, these people want a change. We want it peacefully, we came here to protest peacefully, to demonstrate to you that we are the MANY. There's more of us than there ever will be of you, and we have found our voice.

And our demands are simple. Legalize murder. More jobs. Free the misdemeanors. Lower the rent. Free the murderers. Lower the coaxium prices. Free the orphans to come join our army to defend us. EXPEL THE CORRUPT ESTABLISHMENT. Get rid of that Chancellor and her cronies, vote them OUT, and have them come out and debate. They won't debate, though. They depend on the corrupt process, the Establishment, to keep them in. Shady backrooms making deals, buttering palms. Kissing ass.

They've grown so confident, they only fear one thing. You."

Fal pointed to the crowd.

"You and me, and this microphone. That's what they fear, and they'll shut us down. They don't want us to talk, because they know they'll lose. They know if we keep it a FREE and FAIR election, they'll lose. That's why they're hiding. That's why they just assume positions of power with little mention to this Republic. They want to hand the baton down, to choose their successors. WE'RE TIRED OF IT.

And we're here now.

And I'm not karkin' leaving. We'll be having some more jizz music and drum circles in about an hour, we just need some time to set up. There's a band of taco speeders around the block, closer to the picket line, if anyone's hungry - the sauce is particularly fire. I'll see you all around the park! I can't wait to shake your hands. GORERILLA ARMY. DIAMOND HANDS. GANG GANG. G-UNIT. MY NAME IS FAL GORE, AND I'M RUNNING FOR CHANCELLOR. FOUR YEARS OF MORE GORE."

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

ONE _ PERCENT
SENATE BUILDING // CORUSCANT

B3-LL | Open

“Chancellor, the poor are revolting.”

“Indeed they are my dear,” Tithe replied absently, his gaze not lifting from his datapad. “Did you hear that one got past the Guards the other day? By the Fourteen Caves of Arbra you should have seen what he was wearing. And don’t get me started on the smell. Why the poor seem to never use a refresher is beyond…”

“No Chancellor, they are protesting.”

Tithe paused his work and slowly raised his head with a look of confusion as his business administrator strode toward him, her heel steps echoing across the vast expanse of his office. It took a moment for the synthdroid to cover the distance between the blastdoor and Tithe’s desk. On a planet where the populace crammed themselves into every available habitable hole, space remained the ultimate sign of wealth.

Rieki activated a holoterminal on Tithe’s desk and set it to the Hyper-Communications Cartel feed of the protest unfolding downstairs. The poor and unwashed had gathered to air their grievances with Tithe and his learned colleagues.

“It seems they want equal representation and an end to corporate involvement in the Senate.”

The Aargauun snorted in laughter. The poor didn’t know what they wanted. They drifted aimlessly through life, trying to etch out an meagre existence and ‘build a better life’. They were too simple-minded to realise that no one cared for them, that they would be forgotten the moment their pitiful lives ended. Their existence was tolerated only because the wealthy of the galaxy needed customers to sell their wares to. The wrecked beings would be replaced with droids in an instant if droids could be programmed to be consumers themselves.

“Ungrateful vagrants,” Tithe replied as he studied the holo. “But, it’s hard not to pity their pathetic existence. I expect they want their, uhhh, demand heard?”

Rieki nodded.

“Well, they can pay for access from all other respectful lobbyists,” he replied, returning his attention to his datapad. The whims of the poor were short-lived. They would return to compliance within a day, realising they were unable to find satisfaction without their corporate overlords guiding them.

 

[Gauvain Dawnstrider]

Tags: B3-LL | Aerarii Tithe | OPEN
-----

Location: Outside the Senate
Coruscant

Amongst the chanting crowd, there was a group within Senator Gore's cache of supporters. They called themselves the Free Homesteader Movement. They held up a banner of red, white, and blue with a geometric pattern inside of it. Each of them were farmers and agriculturalists who had experienced economic pressures because of government intervention and regulation. Naturally, they were opposed to it and were drawn to Fal Gore and his anti-government interference message. The man leading them looked the part too.

If the term "redneck" could be applied to anyone in the galaxy, it would be Eustice Mudtreader. Duck-billed gravball hat; white tank top under a camo, paramilitary-style vest; matching camo work pants; and mismatched pieces of betaplast form in a rustic manner. Holstered on his hip was his DE-50 heavy blaster pistol. He wasn't stupid. Any of his bigger guns would be overkill and draw the attention of the Senate's police dogs.

"KRIFF YEAAAAH! MORE GORE!" He hollered from deep in his lungs, "Make that Corpo-loving Chancellor Tithe quiver in his skivvies!"

He grinned and clapped as Fal Gore finished his speech. He turned to his FHS comrades for a brief moment. Eustice had a serious look in his eye.

"Aight, boys and girls. Keep yer eyes open. Them folks in the ivory tower there might not like our kinda protest." He explained, "Prolly send some pigs or Jedi scum to 'secure the area'. As much as I'd like y'all to fill them with blaster holes, keep 'em holstered unless they fire on us. Don't want their fancy lawyers to have anything. An' Jebikizah, keep recordin' so we got something to send to our honest press just in case."

He returned back to the goings on, proud of the process he joined. If anyone was going turn things around for the little folk, it was Fal Gore. Eustice was tired of being pushed around by corpo big-wigs.

 

[B3-LL]

A hand clapped Gauvain Dawnstrider on the shoulder in the night, as Fal Gore roared their ubiquitous chant in a welcoming fashion. He was raising a full bottle of red Quaggan wine high above his head, the tall and lanky Chiss flashing his white teeth to the crowd. Clad in somewhat plain street clothing but still wearing his Galactic Alliance Senator pin on his left breast, Fal Gore motioned for a hug towards Eustice and the others near the picket line - the line around Hero park closest to the police barricades.

"HOW'RE WE DOING TONIGHT, ALLIES?"

With all the swagger and poise of a Senator, he took a swig of the wine bottle and made to embrace Eustice in a friendly though distanced hug. He then dabbed him up, gently pressing the knuckles of his fist against the other's and twice clapping him on the shoulder once more. Wavering the bottle, Fal Gore showed little to no remorse for the volatile circumstances they were in - most brazen men and women in the park were drinking or chanting, but Fal didn't seem drunk in the slightest.

"Ya'll are welcome to join us, anytime!" He motioned friendly towards the police, and began picking a bag off the ground while setting the bottle down. "But while you wait, we want to thank you for this peaceful first night. Here, brother," He turned to Eustice.

"Grab some of the tacos, we brought some for the park Security boys. It's gonna be a long night, guys."

Fal and a few others began bringing the food towards the line, gently setting them down and moving cautiously back.