Keyguyperson — Roleplayer Guild

Yantai City

Black smoke billowed up into the sky from the pedrail's smokestack as it made its way through the streets. It didn't need to announce its presence to force the locals out of they way, they knew better than to stand in the path of an Akitsukuni pedrail. Especially one with a Nariakira gun on top and clad in the lime green of the army. They made space for it on the crowded road, no exceptions. Mothers rushed across the road to leave their children on the other side and fishermen let freshly-caught carp drop beneath the vehicle's pedrail tracks, all in order to get out of the way in time. If you made an army pedrail stop for you, you would have worse problems than a little lost profit.

The noisy contraption came to a stop within the gate of Fort Shandong, the center of all Akitsukuni military and police activities in the province-as its name would imply. An ancient castle had been brought down using dynamite in order to allow the construction of the military complex in the middle of such a large city. One of the two guards walked up to it, and the driver-whom was encased in the most heavily-armored compartment of the vehicle-handed him a sheet of paper stamped with the imperial seal. The guard nodded and, without a word, the vehicle continued on through the checkpoint.

It was an interesting design to the locals, though the novelty of steam-powered vehicles combing the streets had faded away over the years. The front of it had much more conventional, rounded wheels in order to allow for easier turns. It was propelled, however, by the pedrail tracks situated in the back. A common design for Imperial light vehicles, and one rather useful for traversing a battlefield. It's armor, of course, also made it ideal for transporting dangerous individuals. Such as the man contained within its passenger compartment at that very moment.

At last, it made its final stop in front of the fort's prison. It wasn't a true prison, really. The pre-existing ones and blue coal mines were perfectly fine for petty thieves and the like. This building was meant only for the most dangerous. Those who rebelled against the Empire. More suited for a captured enemy soldier than a man picked up off the streets. Of course, that was what terrorists like the man being brought there were. Enemy soldiers.

"Disembark!"

The Sergeant's order was followed instantly by the men aboard the pedrail, one of whom opened the steel ramp at the back and let it crash onto the ground. He ran down it, and the rest followed. Two men were holding a native man, who was restrained in handcuffs as they dragged him towards the building. It wasn't a long journey, just a few steps and they were already inside. The guards stationed inside took over from there, bringing the man over to an interrogation room.

"Hiretsu-na inu!" Said one of them as he spat on the man, before unceremoniously shoving him into the room and slamming the door. 

To be perfectly honest, it wasn't a sturdy door. It was simply made of wood, and the only thing preventing it from being opened was a single lock. After all, it wasn't meant to hold anyone for long. The interrogator arrived shortly afterwards.

He was surrounded by guards-four of them-each holding a rifle. Batons hanging from their belts made it clear what would happen if they didn't have to kill someone. The interrogator himself wasn't that much of an imposing man. His build was average for someone in the army, and his uniform wasn't covered with medals like that of a general's. His only armament was a revolver hanging from his belt in lieu of a baton. In any other situation, the man wouldn't have been afraid of him. When four other people are pointing their rifles at you and you're in prison, however, things that normally wouldn't phase you have a way of being far more intimidating.

"Fei Ma Long." Began the interrogator, pausing for a moment afterwards as if waiting for an answer. The man gave none, apparently the right choice, as the interrogator chose to continue. "You opened fire on Imperial officials, and resisted forces sent to restrain you with deadly force. As far as you must be considered, you are personally at war with the Greater Akitsukuni Empire."

He walked over to a small table in the center of the room, and pulled its only chair out for the man. After a brief pause, the odd invitation was accepted. Fei Ma Long expected to be beaten for "taking the place of his better" or some other stupid excuse to make the interrogator feel more powerful, but such a thing never came. It was almost like there was no catch-the interrogator simply circled around the table. When he opened his mouth, however, it became clear that his circling was that of a vulture.

"You know why I wanted you to sit right?"

One didn't even need to understand the insinuation behind the statement. All that a person could possibly need to know was in the man's voice-that sickening, spiteful voice. He might have pulled out a chair for a man his government considered below him, but there wasn't an ounce of respect meant in that gesture. 

"It's because you can't fight when you're sitting at a table." He continued, not allowing any time for a response to be formulated. "There's not enough time for you to react between when I give the order and when these soldiers pull their triggers. As long as you're sitting at this table, you are completely at my mercy."

He remained silent for a few moments, and drew a spiral in the dust upon the table. Before speaking against, he brought his head down close to the table and blew away the rest us of the dust surrounding his little spiral.

"Fitting, isn't it? It really illustrated the situation you're in. Deep down, you know my people are more powerful, more clever than yours. You know you can't win. And yet, you still fired those shots, because the truth of your inferiority was hidden to you. You couldn't see it with your eyes, feel it in your heart's beating. Now you do, don't you? Now that I've spelled it all out for you and given you a handy visual aid, I think that even someone as stupid as one of you monkeys could get it. You lost before you learned how to fire a gun. You lost before you were born, before your father was born, before your father's father was born and ten thousand years before that!"

Finally, he put an end to his circling and brought his hands down onto the table. His face leaned ever closer to the captive's as the eternal silence continued on, only to be broken by more of his monologue.

"It's funny that you tried to resist, honestly. Did you forget who it was that the wind itself rushed to defend twice? It certainly wasn't you. So tell me, unless you think that the wind will switch sides, where did you get that gun? Did our troops somehow fail to confiscate it, or did you get it from outside?"

Only someone incapable of understanding any human language would miss the fact that he clearly suspected the latter.

"Perhaps your people would like to try their luck once more?"

Well, I've got a LOT of these. But I guess I'll focus on one.

I wanted to make a roleplay based off of a second American civil war in modern times, and the first roadblock I ran into, of course, was the fact that I wanted the catalyst to be an unpopular policy or president. Because duh. Problem is, you can't have a revolt start for either of those unless you plan to piss half of America off. Trump wins and a civil war happens? GM is a liberal nazi commie. Hillary wins and a civil war happens? GM is a filthy, sexist conservative who wants people to be killed by guns. Bernie wins and a civil war happens? GM is a tinfoil hat-wearing, ancap conspiracy theorist who hates the word "socialism" and will kill anyone who utters it.

Of course, I couldn't make a fictional president either. Because they'd have to have some policy to incite a revolt, which in my mind could be either strict gun laws, racist and xenophobic policies, or being socialist. And all of those have the same problems.

In the end, I decided that it would be easier to have the players be VICTIMS of the war, trying to survive in a bombed-out city so I could at least avoid forcing them into ideological roles. Specifically, the city would have been Durham NC, because I really like Durham NC. If you've ever played This War Of Mine, it would have been like that. Scavenging for materials, running into gangs and criminals, having to make tough decisions between a better chance at survival and clean hands. 

But I couldn't manage to come up with a functioning plot, so I scrapped it.

A shame too, because I really love Durham.

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