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    • Keelah

      Out-Of-Character (OOC)/In-Character (IC) Tag Usage   04/18/2016

      A reminder of some rules that are important to remember in this forum, and especially in times of war when the feelings get heated: What is not allowed: * mentioning or alluding to "real life," including referring to a so-called game, a server, players, and other related terms. * flaming. That's right, flaming is still not allowed, even during a war. Imagine that! * spam posts and attempts to e-lawyer your way around what is considered a spam post (one-word or multi-word contentless posts, images posted with no, one, or contentless words, any combination of annoying contentless spam phrases, posts like "interesting," "this is interesting," etc that contribute nothing other than a +1 to your post count, "in before X" posts, etc). * mentioning or alluding to Moderation issues or reporting other leaders ("your post is breaking X rule," "I'm reporting you for X rule infraction," etc) What is allowed: * telling the world about your alliance/alliance business or sharing your opinion about other alliances/alliance business as a leader of your nation. * mention of IRC and forums. These are considered as means of communications between leaders. If you encounter what you believe to be a rule infraction, post it here following the pinned guidelines. Alliance leaders, please feel free to encourage your members to read this thread and make a renewed effort to follow the rules. The ninjas will appreciate it. The use of OOC Tags: * Putting OOC tags around one word is merely attempting to circumvent the roleplay rules around certain words that fly in the face of what the roleplay section is about. Most notably: game. Note: Game is allowed in reference to the political game but not allowed in reference to implying that users are playing a pixel game. * Using OOC tags around an entire post is merely a blatant attempt to make an OOC post in an IC forum without getting caught. For a further detail description of what is an appropriate and inappropriate use of OOC tags refer to Megabyte's post here.
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Sarah Tintagyl

The Heirs

2 posts in this topic

Otto von Kleist sat outside a small cantina overlooking the harbor of Recife and taking a long drag on his cigarette. He was dress in a white suit, white pants, with a white wide-brimmed hat to keep the hot Brazilian sun off of his pale skin. Having sat at the catina all morning and for much of the afternoon, Otto felt the three shots of tequila finally working on his body as he watched the steamship finally pulling into the harbor that he had observed since it broke the eastern horizon. Around five o'clock the massive stacks bellowed out gray and black clouds and the piercing whistle echoed through the stone roads of the city. Von Kleist smiled and threw his cigarette on the ground before stamping it on the street then placing a few coins on the table to pay the waitress. He tightened his hat and with hands in his pockets began the journey towards the harbor to pick up a valuable package.

He stood against the vent pipe that broke through the center of the dock as guest after well-dressed guest disembarked off the [i]HMS Marathon[/i] an Athenian cruise ship sailing out of Bordeaux. With the war currently happening traffic coming from Europe was beginning to slow, especially with the Atlantic Ocean a proverbial war zone. Yet, the rich were able to travel around potential battles and enjoy their lives outside of Athens, in the chance that the nation might collapse or suffer nuclear devastation. Otto, however, didn't care much for the Greeks or for any of the Europeans. He didn't care much for the world to be quite honest, he only cared about one thing; Germany, the Fatherland, and what remained of it.

The package that Von Kleist waited for came in the form of an eighteen year old girl, just barely out of school and it was upon her shoulders that he rested both his, and his organization's, highest hopes. She wasn't hard to spot, sand colored hair, dirty from her lot in life and dressed in a thick brown jacket with dusty jeans. She had only been given enough money to ride steerage and it showed.

"Fraulein," he called with a grin and walked over to grab her one suitcase, he knew it was her because she looked up at hearing her native tongue. "Sophia?"

"Ja? Who are you?" said the girl as he took her bag.

"My name is Otto von Kleist, your days of oppression are over."

He smiled and turned around and began to walk back into Recife while she followed him. "You were the one who sent that money? Why?"

Otto reached into his pocket and pulled out another cigarette then with finesse, lit it with one hand. "Myself and many others, it took a long time to find you, things have been rough. I am," he said looking back at her with a frown, "Sorry to hear of your parents fate."

Sophia turned from him, her blue eyes sparkling with tears. "Is that why you sent the money? Because I'm an orphan?"

"No," he said and laid a hand on her shoulder, "I wish I was that good of a person. I sent you that money because you are a special orphan and the persecution in Germany can no longer be allowed to continue. Have you eaten? We have a long journey ahead of us. and we need to leave right away."

"No, I haven't, I'm very hungry, Herr von Kleist," she said softly, "Where are we going?"

"A place for you to find out who you are," he said turning her towards the southern roads. "Buenos Aires."

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Not wanting to waste time, Otto took Sophia to the city's market place to fill a basket of fruits. He smiled watching her eyes grow wide with the colorful selection of foods. "It use to be, Fraulein, that you too would have seen foods as colorful as these when you were on the top and when you deserved to be on the top because of your name and your history. The slaves have dropped our people low." He said looking at a bright lime and peeling with a small pocket knife.

"The slaves?" she asked biting into the piece of lime that Otto place into her hands. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"We'll talk about it on the journey, but tell me, Sophia, was your family back in Germany, always poor?" he asked her as they left the marketplace and began to walk towards the edge of the city.

"No, when I was younger we were fairly well off. But," she paused, trying to recall her past, "When I was ten, maybe eleven, I remember people who said they worked for the government came and took all of my father's money away because he belonged to some political party or that my grandfather belonged to some organization. I honestly forget, no one told me anything." She said looking down at the ground, observing how finely placed the bricks were on the street. "And when I asked, my mother told me it was dangerous. So I've learned not to ask about the past."

"Your mother was a smart woman," Otto said as they came to a black car. It was recently washed and sparkled beautifully in the setting Brazilian sun. "But I am here to finish the work that your mother started." He said helping Sophia into the car and then jumping in himself. The vehicle roared to life and Otto turned the wheel as they drove out of the city and onto the narrow roads that snaked down the South American coast. "We're going to be driving all night," he said, taking off his hat and letting the wind whip through his short blonde hair. "You can sleep if you'd like, we won't be at our destination for a few days."

"I'd rather say up," said Sophia as she looked out the window at the passing fields and hills. "I have a lot on my mind."

Otto took out another cigarette and place it in his mouth as the flame of his lighter illuminated the car. The radio lightly playing Marlene Dietrich's Lili Marlene. "Such as, Fraulein?"

"I've been in the dark most of my life, Herr von Kleist, I..."

"Please, Fraulein, Otto, it is I who should show you the utmost respect, I am but a humble servant."

"Well, Otto, for starters, since you seem to know a lot about what is going on in Germany. I haven't seen my father in about eight years and my mother disappeared in the middle of the night. Could you tell me something about that?"

He took a long drag from his cigarette and hummed with the song for a moment before tapping ashes out the window. "It is because you and your family belong to a great tradition, Sophia, and in the past those people never would have hurt you. If they had laid a finger on you, they would have been killed. Humor me," he said and looked into her eyes, "What do you know about the man, Martens von Nordland?"

Sophia looked away from him and out the window. The countryside was completely dark now, only the headlights of other sparse cars let her know that she and Otto were not the only ones on the planet. "He, I was told, is someone who I can never ask about."

"It is because, Sophia, the Kaiser has a long list of relatives and you, my dear, are one of them."

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