Byrd Man

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

So, we have three interested and I guess two maybes from @Ruby & @Dinh AaronMk

Born of War(Post-WW4 NRP)

Charleston, South Carolina

Commander Jerry Hunley stood on the bridge of the HMS Palmetto Rose and looked out across Charleston harbor at the old wreck of Fort Sumter. He'd read about the conflict in the history books, back before the Kingdom was the Confederate States and they fought for something much more terrible than simply king and country. Maybe it was an ominous spot to launch the Rose. The ship was a light cruiser and part of the Royal Navy's 2nd Fleet, responsible for protecting the Kingdom's shores from the tip of Florida all the way up to the Virginia Coast.

Jerry had worked as a junior officer and XO before, but never as a skipper. All told three hunded and forty men crewed the Rose and got her out to sea. He was responsible for the lives of those men and keeping them safe. Their mission wasn't the most dangerous, but it wasn't certainly a cruise down the coast.

"Skipper," Lieutenant Sturgeon, Jerry's XO, said with a salute. "It seems all men are accounted for. Orders?"

"I'll do that," Jerry said as he started towards the helm and the PA system there. "I'll give them a talk."

"Now hear this!" The CO announced into the microphone, broadcasting speakers across the ship.

"Men," Jerry said with an easy smile to himself. "Welcome to the HMS Palmetto Rose, your new home. I'm Commander Hunley and I am your skipper. Our mission involves pirates. Reports have them harassing ships around the Outer Banks. The Navy wants us out there to flex a little Royal muscle. We're to patrol, find, and take out any pirate vessels we encounter. Let's show them what this ship can do. Make ready to shove off."

Lieutenant Sturgeon disappeared beneath deck barking orders while Jerry found the skipper's seat on the bridge. Ten minutes later the Rose was under way across Charleston Harbor headed out to see. The ship fired a one-gun salute as it passed old Fort Sumter.

"What's our heading, sir," Helmsman Price asked once they cleared the harbor.

"Set a course north," Jerry said with a grin. "Keep the coastline in sight, but steady on towards North Carolina. Let's see what kind of trouble we can cause."

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

Show interest, dammit!

Born of War(Post-WW4 NRP)

To maybe tag up on what Aaron said a bit, it seems the way you're writing is more like a game than actual story telling. Plot it out. I want to see what it's like being a soldier on the ground and fighting, not a guy in an office with a computer.

Born of War(Post-WW4 NRP)

Yeah, it's no fun to write "I declared war and won." Show, don't tell.

Born of War(Post-WW4 NRP)

Del Rio, Texas

Mark Rogers put the spurs to his horse and held tightly to the reigns. The bay-colored horse snorted and its hooves clopped against the dirt road that had once been Highway 21. It ran concurrent to the long bending road they once called an Interstate Highway. The interstate was still a mess of rusted cars and chunks of ripped up asphalt.

Mark gripped the horn of his saddle as the horse galloped over a hill and the town of Del Rio came into view. Its taller buildings were starting to crumble from the years of wear and tear, but the smaller buildings and homes were being kept up by the people of the town. With it being a small town, Del Rio didn't get the Crown's attention like a lot of the other bigger cities. They had only a few thousand here.

But now there was more, Mark thought to himself as he bounced in the saddle. Below him, a long line of trucks were rolling down the dirt road towards the city. A big billowing cloud of dirt and dust followed in their wake, Mark following after the dust.

He clicked his tongue and started the bay down the hill towards the town. Each truck held a half-dozen soldiers with full kit and equipment, along with duffel satchels. Mark saw the rifles sitting in each soldier's lap. He raced by the slow moving trucks until he came to the truck at the front of the line, already in the city and heading towards the center of town. Six soldiers watched him in the back while the driver looked straight ahead. Riding shotgun with him was a middle-aged man with silver crewcut and an eagle emblem on his collar. The truck came to a stop and idled as Mark maneuvered the horse towards the passenger who rolled the window down.

"Sheriff Mark Rodgers, Val Verde County," he said politely enough.

There were more than a few long looks his way. He expected that from people not from the area. Unless something ha recently changed, Mark was the only black sheriff in Texas. The Kingdom wasn't exactly the old South, and it sure as shit wasn't the old old South of the historyu books, but black people in positions of true authority were still rare in these parts.

"Sheriff," the man with the crew cut said with a curt nod. "I'm Colonel Alexander Jeffrey commander of the Royal Army's 31st Infantry."

Jeffrey reached into his jacket and pulled out a sheet of paper, gingerly passing it to Mark through the widnow. Mark glanced at it while he held on to his horse with just his legs.

"Signed by the Defense Minister," Mark said as he passed it back to Jeffrey.

"Yes, sir," replied Jeffrey. "Where's the best place we can make camp, Sheriff?"

"There's a space on the other side of town." Mark pointed straight ahead. "Just keep going straight and it'll be on your right. How many deep are you?"

"Two hundred are coming today," Jeffrey replied. "We expect to have another thousand encamped by week's end."

"We'll talk when y'all get settled." Mark tipped his hat. "Colonel."

"Sheriff."

Mark squeezed the horse's side with his legs and led his nag away from the wagon train at half-speed. The people of Del Rio were out on the street watching the line of soldiers riding through town. Plenty of eyes were on him too. He dismounted in front of Sammy's. Sam Calhoun stood in the doorway with a towel slung over his shoulder, the apron around his waist was spattered with eggs and bacon grease.

"What's going on, Mark?"

"Military is moving in for some goddamn reason," Mark said with a spit in the dirt. "Got official orders from Richmond that they're to camp outside of town for the foreseeable future."

"First you hear about this?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. I gotta send a letter to Austin to see what the hell is going on. Twelve hundred soldiers are coming into town and all I got is three deputies. Four if I include you."

Sam's face broke out in a grin. "If I want to be included. I'm only a reserve, sheriff. I don't know how I'll do if something happens..."

Mark put a hand on Sam's shoulder and laughed. "I'm sure you'll make all the difference if we have to face twelve hundred liquored up soldiers. Is Hobby in the back?"

"Washing dishes."

The two men went inside Sam's small diner. Most of the regulars had their eyes glued on the truck convoy going by outside. Sam went behind the counter while Mark sat down in front of it, his hand resting on the butt of his revolver on reflex. Hobby, the skinny and pimply kid who worked for Sam came out the back with gloves on.

"Sheriff?"

"Go run and find the mayor for me, son. Tell him to come to Sam's so we can talk."

Hobby shucked off his gloves and hurried out the diner. From behind the counter, Sam fixed a cup of coffee and passed it to Mark. The men kept eye contact as Mark took a long sip of the hot coffee.

"Say it," Mark said after he finished with his sip. "Say what you're thinking, Sam."

Sam shrugged his shoulders and wiped the counter with his rag. "I'm just thinking what you and everyone else in town is thinking. Soldiers in town, this close to the border, might mean more trouble than a couple of drunk privates fighting with towns folks. It could mean movements against folks south of here. You ready for that?"

"No," Mark said bluntly before taking another long sip. "But who the hell is?"

Born of War(Post-WW4 NRP)

Alright, I expanded it a bit.

Born of War(Post-WW4 NRP)

Name of Nation: The Kingdom of Dixie

Government Type: A monarch serves as head of state, a Prime Minister serves as head of the government. The PM and Cabinet are drawn from Parliament and Parliament members are elected by their constituents.

Military: The military is made up of a Royal Army, Navy, Air Force and Marines. It is a capable defense and invasion force that utilizes the best pre-war technology. The best conventional division is the 3rd Tennessee Cavalry, a combined air, armor and mechanized division. The best non-conventional unit are the Filibusters, Southern special forces comprised of twelve twelve man squads that do the work for the His Majesty's Government both at home and abroad.

Economy: Agrarian and Industrial. Industrial hubs are Atlanta, Birmingham, and Chattanooga.

Foreign Policy: Cordial with Southern Charm to potential allies and friends, but aggressively expansionist towards enemies and lesser nations.

History: Comprising eleven of the southern states in the former United States, in the aftermath of apocalypse a group of people united together for the common cause. Headed by a landed noble gentry, the Southern Aristocracy, these former states united as the Kingdom of Dixie. Under their first king, Thomas I, the Kingdom grew prosperous. The autocratic system the Kingdom used came into conflict with the disenchanted lower class, who soon rebelled. The rebellion resulted in the execution of King William III. Rebellion leader Paul Bryant, the fierce warrior known as the Bear, declaring the Republic of Dixie. The radical government lasted ten years under Bear's tight control. When the old man died, reactionary forces overthrew the Republic and brought the monarchy back. A new government with a ceremonial figurehead was put into place, William III's cousin James was crowned king and the Kingdom has continued to thrive in the years since. The patchwork of states that comprise the United States and the Western Alliance stand at an uneasy truce with the Kingdom, as does the Mexican Republic in the South. Tensions are on edge and the threat of a four-nation war could very well break out in North America.

Foes: Federals, Westerners, Mexicans, Canadians.

Demographics: 50 Million. 60% White, 30% Black, 10% other races.

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

Bump. I'm thinking of moving the time period to the 20's to see if it gets more play, but that may have the disadvantage of making it more gangster/bootleggerish than I'd like.

Wild Cards AU [High Casual Superpowered fun!]

It's cool.