Byrd Man

Precipice of War - We Write Under The Sign Of The Goat

Can't wait for PoW's version of Pepe.

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

You know, I hate to be one of those guys that @Dinh AaronMk and I occasionally talk shit about, but I'm gonna have to put the brakes on this game for a while. I'm preparing to move cross country next week and need to devote time to that. I mean, if you guys still want to post then by all means go ahead. I just won't have time for it.

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

City Hall

Bob Stockon sat in the mayor's chair with his feet hiked up on the mayor's desk. In front of him was the Central City Citizen , the daily paper that served as the Combination's official rag. Francis Rhodes, Central City mayor, obliged the seeming affront to his office. The reason for the fealty was because Rhodes knew this office and desk was his only because Stockton and A.J. Patterson saw fit to bestow it on him.

But Rhodes wasn't on Stockton's mind at the moment. The man was off in chambers doing something with the city council. Stockton couldn't remember what exactly, he just knew it wasn't important. He made a beeline for City Hall after going home and seeing his family. He couldn't visit the Social Club even if he went through the back door. During Stockton's first congressional run it was decided that he and A.J. could never be seen in a place where the public could see them together. That meant that Stockton hadn't visited the Combination's headquarters in nearly sixteen years. So instead, he sent word to A.J. that he was here in the mayor's office waiting.

"Sorry about that, senator," Rhodes said as he came into the office. "Just some minor municipal business that you don't need to concern yourself with."

"Oh but I do," Stockton said as he took his feet off the desk and folded the paper. "I need to concern myself with every facet of city life, Mr. Mayor. I represent this city as much as you do, sir. Whatever goes on here is as much my concern as it is yours."

Rhodes gave an uneasy smile. "I figured you would be more concerned with the statehouse, Senator. Wood and the opposition are lining up rather quickly."

Stockton scowled. Michael Wood. Governor Michael Wood. The son of a bitch had been elected four years earlier as a reform candidate, vowing to clean up the state's politics. So far it was easier said than done for him, but now he had a slate of reform candidates poised to try and take the statehouse away from the Combination. If Wood's party took the statehouse, that meant the end of Stockton's senatorial career. It was the Combination's legislators that put him in office and kept him there. While most politicians had to win one campaign for reelection, Stockton found that he had to manage and win several campaigns to stay in the Senate.

All that may be moot after the convention. Who cared about the statehouse if he was focused on a national race? What did it matter to him if Wood got the senator he wanted? A senator is just one of seventy-six. What Stockton was after would put him as first among equals. But still... he couldn't resist the urge to have a little fun.

"Wood's up for reelection," he said nonchalantly. "Rumor I hear is that his plan is to win re-election and then resign if his party wins the legislature back and have himself take my senate seat."

"Low down and dirty," Rhodes said with a shake of his head and his best attempt at false concern. "Is the Combination running someone against him yet?"

"We want to, but A.J. doesn't have a candidate in mind." He paused and looked at Rhodes. "But I do."

"What?... Me?"

Rhodes was many things, but an actor he was not. Stockton stood up and walked around the desk, wrapping one arm around Rhodes' shoulder. While the mayor was several inches taller and twenty pounds heavier, Stockton was able to manipulate him around the room as the two men walked in lockstep during his monologue.

"Yes, Francis, you. You've been mayor for six years now. Six years experience running a city as big as this one trumps even Wood's two years as governor. He was just a state senator before that, he has no real experience. Not like you do. You have executive experience running the fourth biggest city this side of the Mississippi. After this town, the state is easy. I want you as the Combination's man come election day. Governor Francis Rhodes. And think about where you could go from there? Ever since Lincoln, the party has been starting to think of the west as an emerging political base it needs to tap. A two-term governor running for president in '84 could be just what they need. Did I say Governor Francis Rhodes? How about President Francis Rhodes?"

Rhodes stood ramrod straight and looked at Stockton with a wide smile.

"Senator... I'm honored by your words... do you think I could?"

"I know so," Stockton said with a wide smile. "Before we talk further, can you find out if A.J. ever arrived?"

"I sure can."

Stockton held back his laughter as he watched Rhodes bound out the office like a schoolboy. The odds of him beating Wood were unlikely, even with the Combination's full weight behind him. Wood had an iron-grip on the rural parts of the state where the Combination's reach couldn't quite be felt. Even if Rhodes took the city and the areas around it with the machine's usual 90% turnout, Wood's power base in the country would equal that and make it a deadlock. Then it would come down to the non-partisan voters. Comparing the two men, Wood would almost certainly win those votes.

It would be close, and that was all Stockton wanted to achieve. Hard for Wood to engineer a statehouse coup when he had his own tight race to run. He had no faith in a Governor Rhodes or even, god help us all, a President Rhodes. But a viable threat to Wood's job would make it all that much easier for Stockton and A.J. to get the Combination's state legislators back in office.

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

"Saloon City"
Central City

"This makes four, Dan."

Danny Shea looked down at the dead woman's body. She was slashed across the throat and left for dead in the muddy back alley behind Uncle Ace's Brothel. Standing behind him was Bobby Coughlin, Danny's partner on the beat. Danny squatted down beside the body and touched the dead woman's cheek. Cold to the touch. He didn't expect anything less than that. It was a quarter past ten in the morning so it was likely she'd been dead for hours before she was found by someone who actually reported it to Bobby.

"You talk to Uncle Ace?" Danny asked as he stood back up.

"'I pay! I pay! I know no girl! I pay protection!'," Bobby replied in a mock of the old Chinaman. "That's all the fucker had to say."

Danny nodded and began to search for his notebook among the folds of his patrolman uniform. He found it and flipped to a page in the middle. Four dead women in the last two weeks. It wasn't unusual for Saloon City to have that many dead bodies in that short amount of time, but those were casualties from drunken fights and card games that went sideways. Four dead women had been found dumped in back alleys with their throats slashed by a blade that the coroner described as 'big as hell.' The woman at Danny's feet was the second Oriental, the other two dead women were Negro and Jewish respectively. The girl in the mud was dressed like a whore, just like the previous three.

"I grabbed a kid and told him to run back to the station house and tell them we caught a dead body out on the beat," said Bobby. "Not like it's gonna do any fucking good. This girl is dead where it don't matter, Dan. Now if she were a white girl from the east side they'd have the fucking US Cavalry riding through--"

He kept talking about something, but Danny didn't hear him. His thoughts were on the dead girls he'd seen over the past few weeks. Bobby was spot on with his assessment. All four of the dead girls were whores, all four were ethnic, and all four of them were people nobody gave a shit about. Danny and Bobby gave report after report to Sergeant O'Riley and Captain Williams, but they would just shrug and file it away as an unsolved case. They never got the detectives from downtown involved and they couldn't really give a shit. Nobody would ever miss four dead whores.

But Danny wasn't the average person, and he sure as hell wasn't the average flatfoot. He was the rare beat cop that had political juice at his disposal if he wished. Captain Thomas Shea, commanding officer of the CCPD's Southern District, was his father. While Danny tried to stay as apolitical as possible, Tommy Shea was the very definition of a political animal. It was a testament to his ability to play the game that he was the highest ranking Irishman on the CCPD. There was very little doubt that by 1890, Danny's dad would be chief of police.

"You gonna be alright if I leave?" Danny asked his partner.

Bobby shrugged and grinned. "Got a hot date?"

"Not exactly," Danny said as he tucked his notebook back into his pocket. "I'm going to see my old man. He might be interested in this, but I gotta hear his mouth as a trade off. The only thing he likes more than playing politics is giving me lectures."

Bobby laughed. "You sure you wouldn't rather trade places with mama-san down on the ground?"

Danny looked down at the dead girl one last time. Number four. If Danny couldn't get his father to help, they might be finding Number five in a back alley soon.

"I'll survive."

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

And the IC is open.

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

Central City

June 28th, 1876

Bob Stockton always came back home by steamboat. He was wealthy enough now to afford a private coach or his own car on the train. But coming in by river was how he'd first arrived here nearly fifty years ago. Central City was a far cry from the little frontier town he remembered all those years ago. It was so new back then that several of the log cabins in town were built with green wood.

Stockton stood on the deck of the steamboat, cigar firm in his mouth, and watched the city appear around the river bend. The city in front of him now was a vast metropolis with buildings as high as six stories stretched out across its expanse. A thick layer of smog rose above those buildings. To some that was a sign of urban sprawl and decay and pollution, but to Bob it was the price for progress. Industry and the wealth that came for it led to more expansion and growth. That was what America was all about.

"Senator Stockton."

Stockton turned around and saw a Marshall Holm standing on the deck with notepad and pencil at the ready. Like Stockton, Holm was on the way back home to Central City after spending the winter and spring in Washington. Also like Stockton, Holm and his paper worked for the Combination. Stockton scowled and blew smoke from his mouth.

"I told you, Marshall, I'm not talking about the convention until it gets--"

Holm cut him off as he shoved a piece of paper into his hands.

"This was sent to me over the wire when we stopped to refuel in Jeff City. Words coming out of the frontier. There's been a big battle out near someplace called Little Big Horn. You're chairman of the Senate's Committee of Indian Affairs, Senator, and I wonder if you'd like to comment."

Stockton read the bulletin. His face grew redder and redder the more he read. When he was done, he ripped the paper in two and tossed the scraps out of his hands.

"Fucking Custer!"

Stockton spat his cigar stub out of his mouth and watched it fly overboard into the water. These next few weeks were crucial to furthering Stockton's political goals, there was no room for error. And now some goddamn long-haired moron had fucked him over! How hard was it to kill a bunch of Indians? They were almost as easy to kill as the fucking buffalo. As the chairman of that Senate committee he stood to come under fire for lack of oversight on Custer's activities.

"My statement is this, Marshall: This does nothing but delay the inevitable. Like when the unruly child tries to ward off punishment from their father. They do nothing but ensure the punishment will be twofold. The committee on Indian Affairs will do whatever it takes to see that 7th Cavalry and Colonel Custer are avenged, and their murderers are brought to justice toot sweet. America will not forget the brave sacrifice of the 7th and the cowardice of the savage."

"Dynamite stuff, Senator."

Holm hurried away while Stockton brooded over the news. The plan that he and A.J. laid out for the coming convention did not include Stockton having to defend the actions of the now deceased George Custer. If he wanted to emerge from the convention as the party's compromise candidate, a man who could carry the party standard and win the White House, he needed to be as far from controversy as possible. The task was still feasible, the convention taking place here in Central City meant that A.J. had the power to put anyone he wanted on the ticket, but they would have to play things very carefully from here on out.

"Five minutes," one of the sailors announced from the steamboat's top deck. "We'll be in Central City in five minutes."

Stockton found another cigar in his coat pocket and lit it up. His original plan was to go home and rest, but that was now amended in light of the recent news. He had to head into the city and find A.J. as soon as possible. If he knew A.J. like he thought he did, after thirty-six years as partners in law and politics Bob knew him pretty damn well, then he would have already heard the news and would be ready with a plan for how to proceed forward.

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

Make up your damn mind! And there might be some Chinese, but I imagine it wouldn't be big enough to form a political bloc with.

Here's my character! tl;dr: A woman of seemingly ambiguous ethnicity and origin who hitches herself to power to influence politics through her beau.

Name: Olivia Dawson, née Anika Popov

Age: 28

Ethnicity: Russian/Indian

Occupation/Place in the Combination: Professional Divorcee, No official position

Personal History: Olivia's parents emigrated when she was a toddler, and she grew up on the West Side. Her Russian father fell into debt with the wrong people- Olivia never knew the details, but it was she who found his body. Her mother, an Indian seamstress who spoke little English, died of heart failure mere days later. The fifteen year old Olivia came into a small inheritance, just enough to buy a few costumes; the sorts of things the politicians' wives would wear, complete with jewelry and pretty new shoes, and a new name. An unknown face, with an odd accent and a seemingly ambiguous ethnicity, she seamlessly inserted herself into the lower ranks of the social ladder. A Precinct Captain took a liking to the girl, and kept her as a side girl for a little while. As soon as he decided to run for political office, though, he discarded Olivia without a thought. A week or so later, she was hitched with his closest rival, who won the position. However, she didn't stay long, after she met another man, of slightly better power.

Since the age of sixteen, Olivia has bounced from fling to fling, some approaching seriousness. Twelve times, she has been engaged. Only once has the wedding actually come to pass- giving her the chance to steal a new surname. Her relationships end when her partner approaches failure, or defies her recommendations. They end in moments of dissidence and strife, and sometimes, a few end in her partners' deaths. She is seen by the public as a pretty face, tossed from success story to the next; to the people holding power, she is nothing but a little pretty object. However, to those who have fallen for her, or rather, entered a business agreement with her, she is a reliable source of information, and suggestion. She may not hold any real power, but her abilities lie in her manipulations of the men she claims to love.

@aviendha

Approved!

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

I'll post the first post sometime tomorrow.

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

Character Sheet

Name: Officer Daniel Shea

Age: 25

Ethnicity: Irish (1st generation American migrant)

Occupation/Place in the Combination: Police officer

Personal History:

Danny Shea is the son of Captain Thomas Shea, an Irish immigrant who has used his political skills to rise in the Central City PD and amass great influence inside the Combination. Danny is the middle child of the family, his brother Joseph is an assistant district attorney while youngest son Matthew is away at college. Despite being from a family of wealth and influence, Danny has steadfastly held to the determination to be his own man and make his own path separate from his father. He lives across town from the Shea house in the city's westside in a neighborhood filled with new German, Italian, and Eastern European immigrants.

He patrols the westside twelve hours a day, six days a week, and is faced with the harsh realities of urban life. As a member of the police department, he is unwillingly part of the city's political machine. He considers himself nonpartisan, but still is forced to donate a portion of his pay to the Combination and take part in partisan acts for the sake of keeping his job and pleasing his father. He wants to rise and become a detective, but only on his own merits and not because of who his father is or what he could do for the machine.

The Octopus: A 19th Century Political/Crime RP

Character Sheet

Name: Robert Thomas Stockton

Age: 59

Ethnicity: American (British descent)

Occupation/Place in the Combination: United States Senator/Advisor

Personal History:

The story of Bob Stockton is the story of American success. Born in 1817, Stockton's father was a veteran of the War of 1812 who moved west to seek his fortune. The state was still a territory when the Stockton family arrived in the small town of Center and set out as cattle farmers. The Stockton's made a modest living and Bob was prepared to learn the trade from his father when the Panic of 1837 changed everything. The depression ruined the elder Stockton's farm and business prospects. Heavily in debt and depressed, he took his own life. At twenty years old, Bob became the man of the house. The burden of supporting his mother and six brothers and sisters fell upon him.

Bob worked three jobs -- as a saloon floor sweeper, house painter, and general store clerk -- all while reading law at the offices of William "Bill" Patterson, a prominent local attorney. It was there that Bob met Bill's son A.J., an apprentice reading law as well. The two young men formed a fast friendship based on their mutual outlooks on life and fierce ambition. In 1840, Bob and A.J. passed the state bar and started Stockton & Patterson Attorneys at Law. The practice thrived in both criminal and civil cases. A.J. thrived in criminal court, representing the lowest class the city had, while Bob showed his talent as a representative of the growing special interests in the renamed Central City. The men were soon making money hand over fist and establishing connections from every facet of urban life.

In 1852, A.J. and Bob used their connections to get into the political game. Mayor Anthony Scott, the long-serving political boss of the city, was toppled by the two upstarts who used a coalition of poor ethnic voters and wealthy American businessmen to toss Scott and his city council cronies out of office and replace them with men loyal to A.J. and Bob. The Patterson Combination was born. The machine's power grew out from Central City and took over the statehouse. While A.J. preferred to work behind the scenes, Bob liked the spotlight and used the Combination's power to his advantage. In 1860, Bob ran and won a seat in Congress by capturing 99% of the vote in his district. He served for ten years, through the Civil War and Reconstruction, before he saw a greater prize. In 1870, the Combination controlled state legislature elected Bob to the US Senate. The man who had once worked eighteen hour days to provide for his family was now one of the most powerful men in the state and the entire West.

Now, Bob is ending his first term in the US Senate and is coming home to stand for reelection. As A.J.'s closest lieutenant, he helps the Combination plan its moves for the upcoming election season that will be hotly contested by reform candidates in both the city and the state. Michael Wood, the state's current governor, ha made his intention known that he wishes to take Bob's seat in the Senate. In addition, presidential politics may be coming into play as the party convention comes to Central City to elect a president. For a man who has achieved so much, Bob sees a path to the White House could be easily within his grasp if he can play his cards just right.