Crookie
night of the living punk
meg·a·lo·ma·ni·ac
a person who is obsessed with their own power.
The world has its "heroes". The childhood proteges who got shit done and grew up to become brain surgeons and politicians and famous actors and generally making their proud parents feel like they hasn't raised a failure. The people who rake bags of delicious cash back to their home, where their impossibly attractive significant other and "I can determine the hypotenuse of the triangle your arm makes while your hand is on your hip" children. The kind of people who you want to have at a classroom to talk about how amazing their lives are to a group of snotty third-graders.
Then, of course, there's the rejected heroes of this world. The odd ones out, the rebels, the delinquents with their sweater sleeves pulled over their hands. All coming from where no one else could mentally reach. In a different realm of our own, we were shoved into situations where our brilliance was swept away like ash, instead of praised and hailed. We were the aliens, faced with this challenge - to see if we would ever crack from being shoved down so much. But rather, while the third-period geography teacher yelled for attention - the spark in our minds lit the gasoline trail, that sent our future into flames.
But we'll return to that in a moment.
Introducing Anarcity, the true city that never sleeps. Littered with lounging, cigarette-sharing teenagers under bridges and lovestruck couples upon rooftops. The mass population of the place is grand, everyone simply getting from point a to point b, their shoes sounding like applause upon the concrete sidewalks. No doubt a tourist trap for the dazzling lights and bustling shopping malls. Echoing voices and blaring car horns bounce off of the dizzying skyscrapers all around. While this city does reach a point where its hard to stomach the whole place in its entirety, it still has a strange atmosphere to it all. Safe, homey, almost cliche - seemingly far from harm's grasp.
That's where we make our comeback.
Anarcity, while proudly holding its size, has never been able to properly capture criminals and deal with crimes, per se. Not saying that we're all from prisons, but we sure as hell belong in them.
This city of ours is held in our palms. Our sweaty, greedy, shaking palms. And all of Anarcity is our audience. We are the villains - the supervillains that you would find on the front page of your favourite comic book. Those delinquent kids you remember from school? We grew up to be the mass controllers of your goddamn city. We are the ones who set that bus of seniors on fire, and held up downtown's bank with a bomb strapped to our chest.
We have this entire city under our thumbs.
Problem is - there's more than just one villain in this comic book.
Working in their own groups and by themselves, this ravaging band of villains usually try to impress each other to see who can cause the most havoc for their audience. The audience, and victims, being all of Anarcity.
However, the villain's final show must be as incredible as possible. Extravagant, and obliterating, enough to blow their way straight into history.
Will your finale involve ganging up with the other crazies of this town? Or will the most extreme stunt preformed involve your own death?
Summary;
Anarcity is a large, very populated metropolis. Just like in the comic books, all with their own backstories and how they became this way, a group of villains have scared the entire town stiff for the past few years by their mass crimes and usually extravagant, yet disturbing acts towards each individual villain, through the victims of the civilians of the city. Now, having grown "bored" with the same old same old, each villain has challenged each other to the final disaster - to leave only one to be the true anarchist of Anarcity.
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