BingTheWing

Pearl of the Orient, Prize of the West - A Post Victorian Intrigue RP (High Casual - Low Advanced)

Duuuude this shit looks rad

Diplomacy-focused NRP

@Infamous Empath Yeah, but this would be set in a more modern context, where armed conflict would not necessarily be seen as a defense of honor, but a bloody slaughter.

𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐚 𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚

@DeadBeatWalking What about marijuana, opium and cocaine? Weed was clearly cracked down upon due to the 1937 Marihuana Tax Act, opium and heroin were already seen as vices, and cocaine was legal but I don't think its excessive use would be tolerated.

Also, I'm gonna go ahead and post a WIP, not because I'm lazy but because I genuinely need feedback on my character's history. I'm not really sure how to bullet-format it, because there's so much emotion and detail behind it.

Character Sheet

Donny Pescatore

“Jesus Christ, dad!”

---

Name

Donatello "Donny" Pescatore

Ethnicity

Italian-American

Age

22

Loyalty

Pescatore

Rank

Drug-smuggler ringleader

Appearance

You know how this works.

Personality Traits

A list with descriptions. What? It's trendy.

Skills & Talents

See above.

Weaknesses

See above.

Background Information

Donatello 'Donny' Pescatore was born on May 1, 1920 in Manhattan, NY, the second child of Andrado Pescatore, a highly successful businessman largely dependent on the illicit trade of his family, and Mary Winters, an American woman and Andrado's second wife whom Donny killed in childbirth. From a young age, Donny was indoctrinated by his father into the world of lies, cheating, and dirty business, always reminding him of the power he held and his responsibility to maintain that power. However, Donny always felt at least a little belittled and mistreated by his family. His older brother Pietro was his senior by at least twenty years, and always away on some 'business' Donny was never told the exact details of. His father, though still attempting to raise Donny the best he could, never quite forgave him for killing his wife. Donny was never quite treated as an equal in their small family, and was left to find his own meaning in life.

Andrado was regularly busy, and Donny killed time by playing with his other non-Italian friends, whom his father was tolerant of due to his own former spouse being one herself. His best friend was Irish, unbeknownst to his family, and had an Army soldier for a father. Through him, Donny took in the ideals of patriotism, loyalty, and service to the country, things which Andrado neglected. And so Donny was torn between two worlds.

One day, however, Andrado found out that Donny's friend was Irish. Both boys were soundly beaten by their fathers and were told not to speak to each other again. Andrado went even harder as to say that Donny could only talk to pure blooded Italians. Andrado decided it was time to get his son involved in the real business before his rebelliousness would get out of hand. Donny spent most of his teenage life learning about the different types of drugs, his family's history in Egypt, how to smuggle packets of suspicious materials, and his first contacts in the criminal underworld. This continued up until December 7, 1941, when Japanese planes soared over a certain naval port in Hawaii.

Most of Slick Silly's friends, being the sons of strictly patriotic, diligent working-class fathers, immediately volunteered. Donny was left all alone in the old plaza as American troop movements were plastered all over news headlines. After a month, Donny decided he couldn't just sit down and let the war fly by. The tales of his Irish friend resounded harder in his head, and he decided to convince his father to enlist. The decision was not made enthusiastically, since Andrado also had friends who had died in the Great War, but nothing could stop his son. But he had just one condition.

Donny enlisted as a commissioned officer and was assigned to the 42nd Infantry Battalion of the US Army as a lieutenant, one of the infantry contingents that were to be deployed to Italy. He had two missions - one, to be among the first Americans to land his platoon on Italian soil. His second goal was to smuggle marijuana and cocaine to US soldiers, with his suppliers being his own family. Donny spent many nights awake on this certain issue...

...But he found out he was notoriously good at it. Like his paper notes back at home with the gang of 2nd Street, Donny assigned soldiers to smuggle packets of weed and coke into army kits, spare tires, rifles, watches, footlockers and even in the bodies of dead servicemen being airlifted back home. Before long, he even had several captains and a colonel by his back, and he had gained the establishment his family wanted in the Armed Forces. In a rare letter from home, Andrado expressed his pride and utmost gratitude to his son and heir to the family business: Pietro had been killed by police officers on Christmas Eve, 1941.

But the approval of his family wasn't enough. Every day, he saw his own men with bloodshot eyes and coked-stained fingers rushing into Kraut lines. He slowly began to lose faith in himself and his oath to the country, but the turning point was when Lt. Harry O'Reilly, an Irishman from New York, rushed straight into a German trench and was killed by a grenade, nearly getting his entire unit killed. Eyewitnesses reported the lieutenant was under the effects of cocaine. His supply was traced back to a Lt. Pescatore, who was subsequently arrested, court-martialled, and put in a holding cell to be shipped back stateside to serve his charges for distribution of illicit substances.

However, the Pescatores evidently had more influence than Donny expected, and one day found his cell unlocked and a soldier leading him to the open arms of his father. Andrado later expressed his concern that even though his son was honorably discharged, he was still in a melancholy mood. Donny never told him why.

Now, back in New York, Donny was expected to be one of the biggest assets to the Pescatore family. Almost immediately, he was again thrust into the web of lies and intrigue that had gotten his best friend and numerous other soldiers killed. Donny Pescatore, ready or not, was to be the biggest contraband smuggler New York had ever seen.

𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐚 𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚

What kind of illegal drugs would have been popular in the WW2 US Army?

'No Country of Mine' - Valo's Continental War

@LetMeDoStuff I'll just be lurking for the time being.

Diplomacy-focused NRP

Made a rough IC intro

It would probably involve more PMing than anything else

Why We Fight? (WWII with superpowers)

Is this open?

Stellar Fleet: The War in Heaven (Wing Commander/Freespace inspired Space Opera)

@FrostedCaramel woops! I'll change that. Thanks for the info

Stellar Fleet: The War in Heaven (Wing Commander/Freespace inspired Space Opera)

@FrostedCaramel How much assholery is generally tolerated with commanding officers

Stellar Fleet: The War in Heaven (Wing Commander/Freespace inspired Space Opera)

LT Anu Varakjit

"A-and what would you like to drink, sir?"

Lieutenant Anu Varakjit raised an eyebrow at the young crewman that was the bartender of the officer's bar. He took a deep breath.

"Water."

"J-just water?"

"Yes, water."

"A-at once, sir."

Anu quietly shook his head as the crewman dove yet again into the sea of glass and alcohol. The lieutenant was, as always, decked out in his officer's uniform, his officer's stripes proudly gleaming on the sides of his shoulders. As the crewman rummaged through the sea of bottles, corks and mixers, Anu let out a deep, long, and very noticeable sigh.

The crewman turned around, slightly startled.

"S-sir?"

"How long can it take to find a glass of water?"

"S-sorry, sir."

The crewman forced a smile and returned to his search. For a brief moment, Anu let himself study the man. He was clearly very, very fresh, as denoted by the lack of anything noticeably shiny on his uniform, and was a little too red-faced for a battle-tested soldier who let his blood flow more productively. He could also tell it was his first time in the officer's bar by his blatant servility.

Servility.

For a moment, Anu cringed inwardly. Servility. What an ugly, ugly word. It was what smothered the talents of the best of men, and what upheld the dainty little positions of the fat cats up top. Servility was the one thing he detested as a soldier. If all a soldier was to do was to follow orders, then why didn't they replace all the Navy with drones? No. A soldier was to fight, and if breaking the rules meant he would fight better, he would break the rules. And it was because of the apparent lack of understanding of the term servility, Anu mused, that this little man in the officer's bar would not get very far in his career.

The crewman promptly reappeared with a glass of water. Anu set it aside first. The crewman awkwardly shifted from side to side with a typical cadet's visitor's smile. Anu in turn turned to stare at him - or pierce his very soul with his deep, mahogany brown eyes, tilting his head ever so slightly to give off an aura of condescension. The crewman was terrified. Anu relished the fact that he was terrified. It was one of the perks of being high up. He allowed himself to chuckle, and the crewman exhaled in relief.

"From where do you hail, private?"

The crewman was evidently taken aback, but the doctrines of the academy still had full control over his mind and mouth. "The Beta Cygni system, sir."

"Ah." Anu turned to focus his eyes on a peculiar colored liquid in a bottle in the distance. "Very nice, I recall. Their colonies had wonderful birds they brought from Earth."

"Uh, m-my colony had no birds, sir."

Anu again raised another eyebrow. "What?"

The crewman swallowed. "I-I only saw birds when I got to the a-academy on Earth, sir." He started shifting from side to side again. "But we did have some beautiful possums back home."

"Ah." Anu made no effort to hide his utter disinterest in the crewman's life story. He then picked up his glass and drank.

Half a second later, the crewman found himself sprawled at the other end of the bar. A few meters away from him, the lieutenant's eyes were screaming wildfire.

"That was vodka!"

"Oh, m-my apologies, si-"

"Don't you know I'm forbidden to drink alcohol?!" Anu marched forward, and the crewman braced for an impact that never came. Anu had been swiftly restrained by his fellow officer patrons.

"I'm going to have you reported and court-martialled, you son of a bitch!" Anu was frothing at the mouth, his saliva centimeters away from staining his crisp uniform. "What's your name and serial number?!"

"Hey, hey, soldier, let me take it from here." A big Irishman stepped in between them, as he directed two other officers to get the crewman to his feet. Anu shoved him away and turned to march out of the room.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

Another officer quietly sniggered at the back. "Thought this bloke was Hindu."

Anu whirled around, searching for the heckler, but failed to find him. "My god is a god of peace, and I do not call on him if I am angry," he spat.

"I'm not so sure about yours."

---

"All hands, the Galatia will be exiting hyperspace in 30 minutes. Elevating readiness to Alert 1, report to your commanding officers and await further orders."

"Sir."

"Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant."

"Sir."

Lieutenant Varakjit did not return the greetings he received as he traversed the zero-gravity corridor. He was still deep in rage from the 'incident' that occurred at the bar a few hours earlier, they said. Whatever they said, the lieutenant was strongly inclined to not give a shit. He had to get into a mission to keep it off his mind.

He pressed the green button at the briefing room and went in.