The Rich and the Poor

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It is the year 2080. Society has changed as we know it. After years of David Cooper became president, it has influenced and evolved America as we know it. Society has been divided into two parts. The Rich and The Poor. The Rich are the lucky ones, perhaps having a wealthy relative or connected to an important person in a bloodline. These are the type of people who live in big houses, with pools, gold, etc. SOME go to work whilst others have retired at an early age, living a free and easy life. However, The Poor are exceptionally unlucky. There is no in-between. Some live in small houses, perhaps surviving off of a piece of bread each week. Some have no house at all and sleep in small alleyways. But there's a programme coming up. The Goverment have agreed to make a compromise for the Poor. Riches may choose individual Poors to live in their house where they will be provided with food and shelter. The twist? The Poor must serve them whenever they want, providing they get rest and food at the correct times. The Rich must not abuse the Poor physically and vice versa.
MY NOTE:
I'm unsure about this roleplay, it could go in alot of different ways.
((Also this is a revive, lel.))

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Ethan sprinted along the pavement, his feet splashing against the wet floor. His hair was soaked and he was freezing as the water slipped through the holes in his clothes. He came to a stop as he rested his aching back against the fence, exhausted. Wolfing down his last remains of bread, he got up and saw a slightly ripped poster on the floor, soaked from the rain. Reading it through, his brows furrowed. The 16-year old's parents had died recently and he longingly missed them. But maybe this center would work. Scanning the address, he shoved the poster in his pocket and headed towards the center.
 
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Lilly was one of the privileged. She lived in a large house with her family, a mother and a father and her three siblings all of them younger than the 18 year old girl but not by much. She was born into the lifestyle and had never known anything else but that. Every once in awhile her family would take in one of the poor and Lilly would get to see an example of what the other half looked like. She didn't particularly like it, the way that they lived. She had befriended many of the poor that worked for her family but they mostly helped out the elderly who were sick and more than likely not going to live very long so that they didn't have to pass on the streets or in some alley. Her parents felt as though they were helping them. She had heard talk that her mother wanted to take another one in soon since they had the room. This peaked Lilly's interest and she continued to listen.
 
After about an hour of constant running, Ethan had finally made it to the center, he burst through a door, still soaked. A pair of muscular arms grabbed him and dragged him into a run down and tatty damp room. Dozens of Poor's were scattered on the floor as Ethan joined them, closing his eyes and sighing as the iron door slammed shut behind him.
He opened his eyes and looked through the window into another world. Dozens of eyes searched upon his kind, looking for one they found fitting to serve them. He chuckled. His parents would always tell him that if he ever saw a Rich, that he must always show respect. But why should HE be showing THEM respect? He, as well as many others, manage to stay alive with hardly anything left for them. They should respect him. Ethan let out a huge sigh before falling asleep, comforted by the warmth in the room that he hadn't felt for a while.
 
Laurel Owens really hated her new job. Every day she was forced to leave the comfort and luxury of her expensive home, travel to the poorest parts of the city and pretend to actually give a crap about what happened to the hundreds of Poor that filtered through the center doors each day. Just the thought of it disgusted her. She had to really fight with herself to keep from just quitting and leaving the mess to someone else but her father who was a popular politician needed the good publicity. So she soldiered on.
Laurel had long, straight perfectly groomed blonde hair and light blue eyes that held no emotion. Laurel was not an emotionless person though, she just did not have any empathy for her fellow human being. Her perfectly manicured appearance was completed by a pale pink pantsuit with a silk cream blouse that probably cost more money then any of the poor people she serviced had ever seen in their lives.
Laurel flipped her hair over her shoulder as her assistant handed her a folder with the days itinerary as well as client information. Looked like they had a full house today, many of the desperate Poor waiting to be matched to Rich families. Laurel could laugh in their faces honestly. They had no idea what they were getting into. Going to a Rich family to be taken care was more or less selling themselves into legal servitude. Yes they were fed and cleaned and given medical care but they were basically owned by the Rich as well. Little better than dogs. "At least dogs are cute..." Laurel muttered to herself, heels clicking as she made her way to the welcoming room.
She opened the doors with a bang and clapped her hands together loudly. "Get up, get up!" She shouted, making more then enough noise to rouse the room full of peasants. She wrinkled her nose as they began to stir, rising up from their places on the floor and staring at her with rapt attention. "Welcome to the Rehoming Center for the Poor and Despondent! My name is Laurel Owens and I run this facility. I also serve as a rehoming counselor and may even be the one to match you up with your new home. Before we get into that though I need you all to fill out a form for me. It will ask you some questions about your home life, income and family size. If you cannot read or write one of the assistants will fill out the form for you. You have ten minutes and then I will begin calling names." With her announcement over, Laurel directed her employees to help the people fill out forms while she headed to her office to begin another miserable working day.
 
Ethan groaned slightly as clambered up, his stomach groaning with him. He stared at the somewhat impatient woman, staring in awe at her clothes. "So this is the woman in charge.... doesn't look like she wants to be." he muttered to himself, perhaps a bit too loudly as he was quite close to her out of the dozens of people in the room. He scrambled information frantically in a form, with terrible handwriting.

Name: ETHAN ROBINSON
Age: 16
Family: None (both parents dead, no siblings)
Occupation: Is begging an occupation?
Income: Most I've ever got is $35 in one day. Most of it came from money on the ground though.

He handed it back to the assistant. A slight smirk upon his face with the casual way he had filled in the form.
 
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There was a sigh that escaped Derek's throat as he sat on the beat-down roof of the shack he called his home, staring into the distance. This week had been a tough one; considering the fact that he had barely gotten enough food to live off of. Before his mother had passed, she told him that he should go work for the Rich, but never would he decide to bow down and give up his freedom. That wouldn't be living, in his eyes. Running his hand through his dirty, shaggy, brown hair, he leaned back and shuffled in his torn clothing. Being Poor wasn't easy, but it was free. Still, living where you didn't have to worry about food or medical care would be nice. He wanted to consider, but what would be the cost?

The 16-year-old took a glance over to the building where Poor people could sign up to work and bit his lip in hesitation.
 
Ethan shoulders sagged as some people still hadn't finished doing their form after almost 20 minutes. He walked sheepishly up to the wealthy woman and asked quietly but in a slightly impatient tone, "So, how long until we get put into a house?"
 
Laurel was just beginning to look over her paperwork when she heard a small sheepish voice speaking up near her. She schooled her features to keep her annoyance from showing and plastered a bright smile on her face. It was a Poor kid, looked to be about a teenager but they were so underfed it was hard to tell their ages sometimes.
Damn brat had the nerve to ask her how long it would take. He ought to be grateful he was even being given the chance to be assigned to house, not to mention being inside the center where it was warm and dry. She had half a mind to kick his scrawny butt back out into the rain but she knew it would reflect very badly on her so she did not. Instead she opted to answer with as sweet a tone as she could muster. "Well once you've filled out the form and your name is called you will be interviewed by a rehoming counselor to see if you are fit to be placed in a Rich home. We can't allow just any one of you mongrels into a civilized person's home can we?" She doubted he even knew what mongrel or civilized meant, figuring he was likely uneducated as most Poors were.
Laurel patted the teen on the head before an assistant brought over a stack of applications. She looked at the name and physical description given on the first one. "Let me guess... you're Ethan Rob- my god this handwriting is atrocious..." She muttered trying to make out whatever the boys last name was. "Oh for heaven's sake, what's your name kid?"
 
Ethan listened to the woman intently, his face faltering at mongrels. He didn't know what it meant, but it didn't sound nice. However, when the lady asked his name, he couldn't understand why she couldn't read his handwriting. "Ethan Robinson." he said slowly and carefully, speaking to her like she was an idiot. "You Riches have so much money yet you can't even afford to learn how to read." he chuckled, before instantly realising what he said in front of her and regretting it.
 
After a few back-and-forth arguments in his head, Derek soon found himself dropping from the roof of his shack and onto the muddy ground below. His bare feet kicking the wet dirt into the air, he began walking toward the center. He didn't say goodbye to the other Poors he walked past; he hardly knew those he lived around.

It didn't take long for him to get to the center, not did it take a while for him to get soaked in the rain that had come past. With his pitch black hair stuck to his face, Derek entered the center with wide, ice blue eyes. He heard names being called, which made his heart drop. "Oh no... Am... Am I late?"
 
Laurel could feel her right eye begin to twitch as the boy pronounced his name long and slow as though she were some simpleton. Even going so far as to suggest she didn't know how to read. How dare he? Inside she screamed but on the outside her demeanor remained calm though the fake smile she held feel flat.
"Listen here you sniveling little snot" She hissed, holding up his entry form for him to see. "If you weren't taught to write by the monkeys who raised you, I'd have a much easier time reading your scribbles! You had better watch you mouth Mr. Robinson, I am not the one you want to piss off." Did he really not know she held his future right there in her hands? If she tore that form up he was as good as nonexistant to the center. No form meant no meeting. No meeting meant no assignment.
 
Upon entering, he heard the voice of Laurel, which seemed to have spoken the language of poison. He winced slightly at her remarks to the boy, now a little more scared to approach and ask if he had time to sign up or not. He backed into the crowd with the rest of the Poors and waited for a chance to get a form.
 
"Whatever." he muttered, rolling his eyes. "You never asked my first question, Ms. Owens." he said, attempting to show a bit more respect now. "How long until I get put into a house?" he asked again.
 
The boy had a nasty attitude and did not show the proper respect for someone who was so far above him. Laurel was almost sad she hadn't signed up for the program. She'd love a chance to teach this kid a lesson. For now she could only hope he would get paired up with a Rich family who would take full advantage of their new free servant. She narrowed her eyes at him before finally answering his question. "It should only be a few days. We've had quite an overwhelming response from kind Rich folks who want to help you lot out. I'm sure you can find some dumpster to sleep in until then." She smirked before turning to another young man who had entered a few moments earlier. "You aren't late but you'll probably be at the end of the line. Fill that form out. If you can."
 
"A few days?" Ethan shouted. Hearing the woman's remark about a dumpster made him even more pissed off and he had to do something to get her back. His face lit up then he turned his back to the huge amounts of Poor's sitting around. "HEY! EVERYBODY! IT'S GONNA BE A FEW DAYS UNTIL WE GET TO A HOUSE!" he screamed at all of them. A large murmur erupted from the crowd. "ARE WE GONNA WAIT A FEW DAYS?" he screamed again. "NO!" they all shouted back in unison. "WHEN DO WE WANT IT?" "NOW!" they all chanted. And they continued to chant this, on their feet now, screaming at Laurel Owens. Ethan spun around, crossed his arms and had a huge smirk across his face as hundreds of people like him were shouting at her behind him. "Now... let's lower that from a few days, shall we?"
 
Smirking softly, Derek stayed silent. He liked the other teen's spirit. They seemed around the same age, which made him feel a little more proud of the other guy, despite the fact they didn't even know each other. "Go youth," he mumbled to himself as he slipped around the other poors, taking a form and a pencil. He ignored Laurel's extra comment, though he raised an eyebrow at it. Derek was smarter than your usual Poor, but didn't want to show it; it wouldn't matter anyway. His freedom would've been gone either way.
 
Ethan's smug look continued to be plastered onto his face as he walked away, leaving the Poor's surrounding Laurel. He noticed a boy, he looked similar to his age. "Might as well make a friend around here." he mumbled to himself as he crept behind the boy and looked at his form. Surprised by the handwriting, his eyes widened slightly at how neat it was for someone of his nature. "So, what's your name? I'm Ethan, the guy that just started the shitstorm over there." he grinned, gesturing towards the Poor's still chanting.
 
Derek blinked before speaking, surprised that someone was talking to him. Well, he wouldn't see him again probably after this, so it wouldn't hurt to make a friend. "Oh, hey... Name's Derek." He looked to the group of Poors Ethan spoke about and chuckled softly. "You're good with people, I see?" He continued writing on the paper, though a few of the questions he wasn't able to answer. It wasn't that he didn't know what they asked, he just didn't know about himself enough. "My... Ethnicity?" Derek questioned as he looked down to the ground in thought.
 
"I suppose I am. I just like to fight my own rights, you know?" he started to ramble. "I mean, people are saying giving away yourself to the Rich is bad and that you shouldn't do it but I think this is the start of something. The start of equality. My dad would always say that I'd fight for something I believed in one day. It's too bad he's not here now..." Ethan said, as his voice cracked slightly at the mention of his dad.
"Eh? What the hell is Ethnicity? I left that one blank." he laughed.
 
Derek nodded and looked back up to Ethan and frowned at the mentionin .of his father. He knew exactly he felt; but Derek had a little more reason to hate his old man. He abandoned his mother and him for the Rich life; moving in with some new chick. "Yeah... I see what you mean. But... What if the Rich don't listen?" Then Derek chuckled softly at Ethan's comment, truly thinking that he was joking.
 
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