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Moonshadow + Applejaxc
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Applejaxc
(new)
Mar 12, 2015 07:01PM
So do you want to do fictional future? Not going to lie, I'm not super comfortable playing an anti-American anarchist.
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Wait, can we just go against a different government in the future? (Examples: Hunger Games and Divergent.)
Yes.I am not a HG or Divergent (or Mazerunner) fan. That's not the kind of story I had in mind. But yes, fake different future government.
My idea was that our characters are either revolutionaries (using guerilla warfare, etc), or straight criminal/vigilante types that rob/terrorize from the corrupt (businessmen, politicians, etc)
I like revolutionaries :)
Alright.What kind of country are they in? Autocratic urbania, a land where cities have overspilled? Or some kind of third-world, rural farmer's coalition movement fighting the encroachment of gov't forces?
For me, it doesn't matter.
I prefer fighting autocratic urbania.So, coopted from another story idea I have:
Russian-Chinese-Indian-Pakistani-Iranian war for the middle east plunges much of the world into darkness for two decades (no oil, constant fighting, increased crime, etc). The result is a largely destroyed Europe, Asia, North Africa, and middle east (America?). Fortunately, no nuclear weapons were deployed for the duration of the conflict.
The story can either take place in central europe, where a fascist dictatorship once again threatens the stability of the world, an island-nation like Britain where the borders are closed coming in or out and someone has fashioned himself the king, or anywhere else?
Hmm. You kind of got me lost... :/
Sorry.Somewhere in the near future there's a resource war. Everyone wants oil, right? Well some east-european and asian countries get into a big fight that snowballs into WW3 (but no nukes are used, which is good)
After all the destruction, new governments are built. I'd like to choose a scenario that fits history, like a Nazi dictator trying to control post-war Germany, or a rich man in Britain declares himself kind of everyone/thing that survived
Okay that's better. So our characters are members of a revolutionary group?
Right. They either want to restore the former government (or parts of it), or they want a new one that isn't the one they're fighting. They don't necessarily need to want a good government; they could be anti-Nazi but pro-fascism, or super racist, or anything. They don't even have to agree with each other-just agree that what they're fighting is bad enough that they'll work together to stop it.
So there's basically no black or white to the group, but one thing is for sure, they don't want this government.
Right.The enemy isn't really a government... yet.
In Scenario 1:
A frothing, racist, xenophobic (hates outsiders) dictator wants to eradicate all he doesn't like that's still in his destroyed borders. This would take place in central Europe (northern Italy, Germany, eastern France)
Scenario 2:
Britain, once a country with 22+ people per square kilometer (which is a lot), has been wrecked by war. A man named Richard has named himself "Richard Lionheart" (like the old king of Britain), who uses his secret police force (called the Knights Templar) to assassinate and control. He has named his friends dukes and duchesses, and has forced the "Peasantry" to farm and work. Those who hate the "King" call themselves the Freemasons.
I like scenario 2
Alright.So:
1: Why is your character in Britain? Are they British, or trapped after the war broke out?
2: How many years after do you want this to be? It has to be at least 4, long enough for what was once the government to have been absolved and replaced by Lionheart.
1: Was originally British2: 5 years after the war sounds good.
I have most of a character in mind. Do you?
A little bit, but I'm hoping to flesh the character out the more we roleplay.
That's understandable.Do you want to start in the thick of the action, or they haven't met/joined yet?
Hmmm. I don't care where we start.
How violent are you comfortable with? (As in, this RP will likely be about mass killings and acts of terrorism on both sides)
Hmm. I'm okay with a battlefield looking deaths. Not to gory with the death (for example explaining his guts flying everywhere and blood coming out of his face.)
Right. I'm not going to be ridiculous with limbs flying everywhere and whatnot.How comfortable are you with firearms and martial arts? I assume you've seen enough action movies to understand what's going on.
-speaking of firearms:
1. This is going to be in Britain, right? Where firearms are not an every-household commodity.
2. But big war and whatnot. The size of the island means, hypothetically, after 4 years, a lot of military installations have been looted, which were stocked in preparation/during WW3.
So, do you want guns to be a readily available thing, or guns but ammunition is rare, or road-warrior style everyone has a baseball bat?
I think guns should be a readily thing, as well as knifes which I'm pretty sure you can find. I have another question: Would technology be more advanced there or just the same as we have now?
Do you want this to be farther in the future? Usually in these kinds of stories I use the fictional company "Pride Industries" (run by Jackson Pride), who exacerbates already tense foreign relations by (unofficially) selling weapons to all sides of all conflicts. The tech he sells is a *little* more advanced than what we use today because it's based on existing prototype technology, but I wasn't planning on this being too far ahead otherwise
That's awesome. Let's use that, but not rely on it to much.
Okay. I'm not entirely sure what Britains current Order of Battle (weapon/vehicle choice and application) is, so I don't know what to make the "Commonplace" thing.The character idea(s) you have: Does it, at all, involve the Irish Republican Army? (Irish terrorists who fought Britain ought of Ireland since the end of WWI)
I don't see Irish coming into the story so let's not do that.
I asked because there's a perfect historical inspiration for revolution in Britain coming from its sordid history with dealing with the IRA. I was just asking to confirm because if your character was involved with them in any capacity, she might already known mine.But she wasn't, so she doesn't.
Is there anything else we need?
Hmmm. Where should the group be located and about how many members are there? Is there leaders as well?
My plan is, neither character is yet affiliated, but they know that it exists. There's an incident between them and the badguys, and they're saved by the goodguys, who they then join. There is a de-facto leader (not elected, but everyone follows him), but it isn't a large outfit... yet.
Sounds good to me :)
William Isaac Toffler, a man in his mid-twenties, wrapped in a dark cloak to hide his body from the worsening fall cold, sat on the dented trunk of a rusted, stripped car between the long-empty pumps of a petrol station in what was formerly a town in the middle of nowhere in the mid-east of Britain. A few snowflakes had fallen that week, providing a miserable slush to freeze one's ankles in.The town still had its share of residents, many of which survived on the fear would-be bandits had of the many illegal hunting weapons a former large game hunter had kept in his attic until the end days. In the chaos of the last several years, it had effectively established itself as not worth troubling. Now it scratched a tolerable existence with small-scale farming operations. William had found a bed (a clean one at that!) for the price of a few hours manual labor each day that he stayed. Unfortunately, after a week and a half, he'd bartered everything he had away for food, his new cloak, and an unopened pack of cigarettes. One was held between his lips now, glowing softly in the light fog. Behind him in the former convenience store, a few of the residents prepared their ad hoc barter station.
(Oh gosh. Does each comment need to be this long? Secondly, they don't know each other right?)
(1: They don't know each other. If she's been in town a while, she may have seen him2: I like longer Rps, yes. The writing is better that way. If we just do bare minimum posts, and it takes twenty posts to get anything done, I'm going to lose interest. I understand that not EVERY post is going to be like that one, however)
"Damn the cold." She hissed under her breath. She put on a thick coat and let her long black hair fall to her hips. She never tried to tie it up at times. She walked out of a store she was in and walked quietly onto the sidewalk. She had to blow into her hands a couple of times in order for them to not go numb. Her boots crunched in the snow and she looked down as she walked. She was always deep in thought about everything, mostly what she has been though, she has a good reason to. Her breath came out in puffs of smoke which reminded her of gunpowder for a bit.(Okay. I totally understand, but you will probably have to wait longer.)
(I can live with quality over quantity, thank you:)William pulled the cigarette from his mouth, then turned it over in his fingers thoughtfully before taking another drag. It had been a cheap pack of Menthols, but it was full and dry.
Sometime near dawn, a number of women had collected at the petrol station (the men continued to cultivate their gardens or prepare the homes for another winter). William listened to them gather, but didn't turn to watch; he kept his eyes on the twisting, broken road that snaked downhill, then along one of Britain's muggy, gross coasts. A truck was coming-an honest-to-goodness working truck with enough gas to make a round-trip to wherever in the Hell it came from.
Roma had walked to the petrol station with other women, but had no intention in talking to them. She looked at the few faces she knew and talked a bit until a truck caught her eyes. 'A good working truck?' She thought. She turn back to the women. "I'll be right back." Roma ran off and off down the hill. It was a little slippery, but she made it to a small hiding hole she had made before. She bent down and watched the truck with interest. Also, if she happen to get her hands on a working engine, she could buy some weapons. The nice weapons, if she was fortunate enough.
It wasn't just a truck: It was a working British MRAP 
(minus the gun on top!)The driver and passenger seats were occupied by men that wore some kind of brown uniform, but the boxy nature of the vehicle made it difficult to discern much else. On the roof rode three other men, who all-with otherwise random clothing choices-wore the brown coats of the WWI-Era British military, and held rather imposing rifles in their laps.
The diesel engine heralded the vehicle's approach before it reached the outskirt station at the edge of that town. The truck stopped; the three hood-riders pushed off, then sauntered towards the station. The driver didn't kill his engine.
Roma climbed up the hill and watched the three men at a good distance away. She grabbed the hood of her jacket and pushed it up. She crouched as she ran to the truck. 'The engine is still on.' She thought. She ran a good distance away from the truck and kicked angrily at the snow. "How am I suppose to do this?" She hissed under her breath, making puffs of white in the air. She looked over. 'What are they planning anyways?' She thought to herself.
(Is she wanting to steal from it?)The men stopped a few feet to the side of William's car, where they met with the owner of most of the town's property (and de-facto leader), he had a double-barrel shotgun resting on one shoulder. As he approached, he raised a hand: "Why don't you boys put those in your truck before we do business? People around here get a bit skittish seeing such a display."
The apparent leader of the three, whose accent placed his origin to somewhere near Bristol, spoke for the men. "If you don't have a reason to bet shot, ye ought'n be afraid of our guns lad."
They bickered for a few minutes. A few men came in support of the old man; the two men in the truck dismounted, carrying rifles of their own.
The argument culminated on this point: "This land belongs to King Richard Lionheart, and his law states that his men have the right to carry whatever they damn well please to defend themselves. Leastwise it's that time of the year again; he'll be taking his cut o' the crop." For the last year and a half, the Lionhearts had been declaring everything they saw as vassals or yeomen and took whatever they wanted from the weak under the guise of feudal servitude.
(She wanted to raid the weapons for herself. Also, if possible, get a hold on the vechial since she could sell it.)Roma listened in and wanted to punch the men hard in the face. 'Lionheart.' She thought. She had hated even hearing about him from the Irish tongue. Well, she just hated hearing about him wither who it's from. She snuck to the front and saw no one in it. 'Cool. So far so good.' She was already trying to guess what numbers this vechial could bring her. One of the men turned around and to the MRAP. Roma quickly ducked down and crouched low in the snow. She glanced up again and saw he wasn't looking. Roma quickly started to climb the vechial.
(Bristol is in Britain. His accent is supposed to be cockney, not Irish)William watched with some interest as a brave or mentally deficient woman started poking around the truck the men had come in. What in the Helll?
"You can tell your King to go to Hell. We don't want trouble but you're asking for it, and there's a helluva lot more people here than came in your truck. So-"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" One of the men had turned to watch the rear of the formation, and was obviously displeased to see someone climbing on his property. He (and the men with him, though they aimed at the crowd) raised his rifle.
Stupid broad. What the men from the truck and Roma hadn't seen, but William and the townspeople well knew, was that two people had positioned themselves on either side of the road, and one now raised himself over the edge of the roof of the petrol station, all armed with hunting rifles. William, sadly, only had an old British army revolver in his lap, hidden by the cloak that was cast off as he pushed himself from the trunk of his car. The man on the roof bellowed: "Drop your weapons now thieves, and we'll let you go back to your King with your lives."
Obviously, the men didn't take too kindly to this; all sides opened fire.
(Oh. Sorry.) Roma bit her lip as she looked over at the men. She climb up quick enough to grab a gun that was left up there. Roma bit her lip slightly as she watched everything. 'I have one weapon, but they have more weapons then me.' She thought. 'Maybe I can pretend there's a bomb here, but I'm not sure what they will do. Some of them might want to risk their lives.' She gripped the gun with uncertain hands. She aimed at the the window and shot the glass. Then jumped down. She shot the tires and quickly ran away. 'At least I can get some fun out of this.' She thought as she ran fast.
I'm sorry. Your writing has proved more elementary than expected. Your character is hardly believable (who survives 4 years with such a reckless personality?) and, unfortunately, your propensity for... I do not know a polite way to say that you lack a fundamental of writing that has already killed my interest in this endeavor.
....I'm guessing you're very particular about who has the qualities of being your roleplay partner don't you?
Plus, that really hurt my confidence... Thanks...
I feel I expect a reasonable level of seasoned veterancy in my writing partners.
So, you're saying I'm not good enough to meet your qualities of a experienced roleplayer?
Yes, but that is not the entirety of the issue.As far as a roleplayer, there's a certain eloquence and etiquette that is important to observe but difficult to equate.
As a writer (which is the larger issue) I can tell you are either young, not very well read, not very well taught, or some combination thereof.
