Ip4 Anarchism Events

Messengers of Death anarchism_events.1 · dlc016

… lit his pipe, and handed the swifly-fading match rightwards. His neighbor lit his own, and the smell of cheap tobacco began to infiltrate his nose. The man who had joined him raised the pipe to his lips, and released a satisfied smoke ring. In the distance, on the edge of their hearing, a sharp sound rang out. Then another, then another. "Did you hear that, too?", he asked, though he already knew the answer. And then, sooner than he expected, a hideous scream.

And Then, Nothing anarchism_events.2 · dlc016

For a brief, insane moment, … thought that the man was waving. And then she saw the object in the air, the man turning to run, … raising … hand to shield … face. And then it hit. There was a terrible clap, a burst of pressure, a puff of smoke that seemed far smaller than it should be. A hideous ringing drowned out all other sound. She saw … step forwards, out of the smoke, and dumbly look down at where … hand had been. And then … knees gave way, and a slick of red ruin spilled across the cobbles.

A Hellish Deed anarchism_events.3 · dlc016

A militant of the … has carried out a terror attack in …, throwing two bombs into the orchestra pit of a packed theatre. Dozens of attendees have been killed or wounded.

"You cannot be here," said the man by the door. "Do you understand that? Your actions will bring all of the state's hounds down on us." …'s face split into a sneer. "You are a coward," he responded. "You snivelling, foolish coward. I have sacrificed myself in the benefit of human progress. You have a duty-" "Keep your voice down. Progress... you are a butcher of children, and you cannot be here. Do you understand what you have done? Your indiscrimate slaughter has put the people's trust in us back by a century... You have pushed them into the arms of the state. You must leave. Now."

Propaganda by the Deed anarchism_events.4 · dlc016

Viewing open political organization as unfeasible, the … has embraced the doctrine of "Propaganda by the Deed". Through public assassinations of politicians and businessmen, the movement hopes to inspire the masses to further revolutionary activity.

The building's facade, scorched pitch-black, yawned before the detective like a the maw of a great beached sea monster. Display cases and clothes-racks, shattered and cast to the ground, formed its snaggled teeth. A wind-tossed sheet of paper, corners charred, flattened itself against the side of his boot. "War!" it proclaimed in a neat copperplate font. He picked it up, and turned his back to the wind to stop its fluttering. "Class war," it continued, "sparked by you..." He pocketed it. Now, he thought. Where was the nearest printers'?

The Black Tempest anarchism_events.5 · dlc016

The … has taken up arms, launching a revolutionary struggle against the government from their heartland of ….

"There's no more time. We need to go. Now." Francisco swept his arm across the table in a mighty arc, sending its contents tumbling into his scuffed leather bag. Across the room, his comrade was pouring vials of gunpowder into the press' machinery. The sound of trumpets drifted in from outside. Marching men, some distance off. Two streets away? Three? "Enough with that," he said. "Get the matches, we'll settle with what we have." He shouldered the bag, and rushed towards the door, with spidery footsteps soon in tow. Excitement threatened to detonate his heart. … was so, so close, and a free world not much further.

The Best of All Possible Worlds anarchism_events.6 · dlc016

The spectre of anarchism has been exorcized from … soil. Order has been returned to the streets, and our citizens no longer need fear anarchist terror.

The arcades of … shone with glass and gaslight. Silk-clad figures flitted from store to store, handing over a decade's wage for a necklace or a hat. Cashiers with frozen smiles filled their palms with pesetas destined for their employers' pockets. In the fields outside …, scythes rose and fell in a hypnotic wave. A worker in the middle of the line, blinded by sweat and airborne chaff, took a clumsy step forwards. He fell, and the snap of his ankle resonated like a gunshot. The print shop's window showed nothing but blue and brass. The first policeman through the door was hideously young—devoid of whiskers, acne-spotted, voice breaking as he shouted. Francisco looked into his eyes, and plunged the dagger into his own chest.

The Internacionalistas anarchism_events.7 · dlc016

Drawn by interest in the growing … …, a representative of the International Workingman's Association by the name of … has crossed the border from ….

The International … came at midnight. He slipped through the shop's back door like a breeze, greeting the waiting men with a nod and a whispered password, and then drifting upstairs. There, behind the safety of a drawn curtain, they exchanged their aliases, their cover-stories, the tales of their battle-scars. The hard floor would suffice for now, said the International …. His hosts smiled at … bravado, and offered him pride of place on the loft's sole rug. The copyist would take first watch, settling down by the window with a shrouded candle. By seven in the morning, the … was on a cart Southwards, and the locals congratulated themselves on a task well done.