• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Realistic or Modern The Contested Zone: Diego Asturia

OOC
Here
Characters
Here

cl0ud

Senior Member



  • As you walk out of the lobby of the apartment, a white sedan turns on and its headlights flicker to life. It is dark and raining outside. You get into right rear passenger seat. Not a word is uttered between your apartment and Site 17. The car pulls into a driveway after being on the road for about an hour. You walk through the gate and open the cellar doors. The driver closes the doors behind you. As you walk down the stairwell, the pale light of an overhead incandescent bulb begins to brighten. Standing over the table is Agent Watchman. He is an interesting figure. He is tall and lean yet his muscles are visible through his suit. He is completely bald - not even eyebrows. His face and hands are scarred - various cuts and burns. His suit is crisp, crease and fold being tidy and trim. "Good evening, agent," he says, monotone. He sits down and you follow.

    "You have been assigned to Operation BACKYARD FUN. Operation BACKYARD FUN is a joint operation between the Bureau of Internal Affairs, Federal Ministry of Defense, and National Intelligence Service, spearheaded by the Bureau of Internal Affairs. The Bureau has appointed you the field commander of this operation and entrusts you to complete the following objectives. The primary objective of Operation BACKYARD FUN is to covertly fight a conflict against the People's Army of National Freedom and usurp power from the National Liberty Union by all means necessary. The secondary objective of Operation BACKYARD FUN is to commit to a counter-narcotics project and disrupt if not destroy the operations of the Kings of Palco and the Marejones and Chejondo Cartels," he pauses.

    "You will receive financial, intelligence, and materiel aid during this operation. You are to assume a native identity in east Cacina. The Bureau has assembled this dossier regarding your character," Agent Watchman says, handing you a manilla envelope. "Read, internalize, and then destroy these documents. After your briefing concludes here, you will board a dinghy and be transported to Soliguelver. From there, you will head to your assigned apartment and read the provided instructions. Are there any questions?"

 
Last edited:


"We're trapped in the belly of this horrible machine...
And the machine is bleeding to death"


Diego silently sat there and blankly looked at Agent Watchman as he explained the details of the mission even when handed the envelope as he tried to get a read on the agent. It was clear that Diego was sitting in front of a veteran, almost comically so to the point where it wasn't even deniable. Diego couldn't help but wonder if the Agent ever went out to do the groceries by himself and interact with normal people. He would stick out like a sore thumb anywhere normal people would normally be. Diego concluded rather swiftly that Agent Watchman wasn't a field intelligence gathering expert. Those kind of jobs were reserved for people who looked like your every day John Doe who could blend in easily. This then led to a disturbing conclusion... seeing all those scars... to Diego it seemed that Agent Watchman was an experienced "cleaner", someone you entrusted with tying up loose ends. Diego hoped that he would never see Agent Watchman in the field in the future. Once Agent Watchman finished talking, Diego put on a practiced smile and replied "Give me a moment while I go through the files." as he then finally opened the envelope to examine its contents.

Several minutes of silence passed before Diego looked up from the files and finally spoke "Just two questions. If I ever need to get in touch with the BIA and our friend at the Crossroads is indisposed for one reason or another, how can I get in contact? Second, how much truth is in the dossier? Was there a real Miguel Castilho-Cardoso who worked at the harbor? Any names that I can drop to build some rapport with the locals? It would be odd for Lorenzo to not know people in Soliguelver after spending most of his life there."
 
"If necessary, find a pay-phone and dial 800-208-5291. That number will connect you to the field office here in Catillarame. The moment that number is dialed, the number will change and you will have to wait until you receive the new number. Use that connection sparingly if at all." This information has been added to your journal.

"Everyone in the dossier is real except for Lorenzo. The Bureau created this identity when Miguel and Pauline married. Birth certificates, social security cards, financial statements, dates of enrollment, and any other pertinent documentation has been fabricated to create this identity. Miguel was not very close with anyone and was socially deranged from his time in the war. Veteran dockworkers will know who he is but he has no close allies. However, if you find any older Yozgyatan Navy veterans in Soliguelver, they likely will know Pauline's name. Her father is a respected admiral. She also taught music at an elementary school." This information has been added to your journal.

"I would suggest that you try to reconnect with Lorenzo's parents' old friends. They will not know who Lorenzo is but they will know Miguel and Pauline."
 
Diego nodded as he read through the info once again as he pieced together the intel that Agent Watchman gave him. The BIA had given him a firm foundation to begin operating from. By most measures, Lorenzo would look like a native who had left for several years after his parent's deaths, giving Diego a decent excuse for not knowing a lot of folks in the area. He would have to spend a bit of time initially just getting the lay of the land and developing rapport with people, but soon after he would have the means to start operating. The harbor workers were an interesting angle to work. A cruel harbormaster who the workers hate? Why Diego couldn't help but think about borrowing a page from the National Liberty Union handbook and start a dockworker's union to start throwing wrenches and headaches at their direction. How would the NLU react to a demand to be able to unionize the workers and a potential strike? They would either have to waste time and resources to meet their demands or break the strike via force.

Diego shoved the files back into the envelope and handed it back to Agent Watchman to dispose of. Diego then spoke "No other questions, but I do have some requisition requests. First request, an inconspicuous 'makeup' kit to allow me to change my physical appearance a bit if needed. Second request, some mechanical engineering text books to allow me to read up and gain passable surface knowledge and do simple things related to the subject. Three, family memorabilia... any old photos of Lorenzo's parents, some old Great War artifacts that Miguel may have kept such as medals, uniform, maybe even a gun... and an old instrument that Pauline used to play. Whatever you can send me to make Lorenzo's backstory more realistic. Is there anything else I should be aware of or know before I head out?" as he prepared to leave and get on the dinghy.
 
"Supplemental materials will be prepared by the time you arrive in Soliguelver. This concludes the briefing," Agent Watchman says, grabbing the envelope.

The agent who drove you to the briefing site ushers you into the car and then delivers you to a riverbank outside the city. There, a black dinghy with three other BIA agents awaiting for you. Two of them are armed with service rifles and equipped in tactical gear, the third is in a simple bulletproof vest with a baseball cap on and a holstered pistol. You take your seat and they drive you down the river and along the coast, not many words exchanged. After over just an hour, you see the lights of Soliguelver. The dinghy pulls you up next to a docked fishing boat in the harbor. As you dismount, the agents wish you good luck on your mission. Do they even know what your mission is?

You walk to your apartment and open it with the key. It is a small studio apartment, but the Bureau took the time to furnish it. A bedroom, there is a kitchenette to your left, a sofa with a coffee table, television, and radio in front of you with your bed behind it, and your bathroom to your immediate right. There is also a walk-in closet next to the bathroom. The Bureau provided towels, a toothbrush, floss, mouth wash, hair conditioner, shampoo, body wash, toothpaste, a razor, and shaving cream in the restroom. In the kitchen you find a stocked fridge. The closet is full of common clothes and a suit. On the coffee table lays a small wooden box that, when opened, has various documents, pictures, and medals. A brief look through the contents and you find love letters, pictures from Miguel and Pauline's wedding day, a pair of dog tags, and several bullet casings. On your bed lays a violin with the initials "PC" crudely etched into it with a knife.
 
Diego began sorting through the objects in the studio. It was fully furnished, so he began placing the picture and the violin on the coffee table while keeping the letters and war memorabilia in the box and placed casually in a closet. He had to make the place look like someone actually lived in there. So, he walked to the kitchenette to start brewing some coffee or tea, and then walked back to the bathroom to rinse himself and then going through the other documents that were in the box. It was a lot of love letters between the two. Diego found it interesting that a broken man found a new reason to live so... suddenly. Though, perhaps that was what love is and what it is capable of. He then noticed the lack of Mechanical Engineering text books that he requested. He would have to try and make his current superficial knowledge work for now. Diego sipped on his tea/coffee, deciding that he would take a walk around the neighborhood to get a sense of how people lived in the area. Maybe he would bump into some dock workers and begin building rapport with them, but regardless he had to start gathering intel before he took decisive action.
 
Because it is night out, there is not many people about on the streets. Walking along the natural curvature of the harbor, you must stop to admire the boats docked. Some of them are grand and boast the Cacinan flag proudly. The docks are also very well maintained and show that this is a pride of the city. As you meander on, a man in rags is stumbling alongside the sidewalk with a bottle in hand, obviously intoxicated. A pair of officers are walking up to him, one with his baton at the ready.
 
Diego had been walking around the harbor district for a bit. However, due to the time of day, it didn't seem like most people were out and about in this area. At a certain point, he decided to look for the Jolly Lady, the place where Miguel had worked at. Perhaps, he could meet some of Miguel's acquaintances there or even Pauline's. Worst case, maybe he could find a job as a bartender there too. Bars were a notorious place for loose lips, and a great source of intel. On the way, he saw a drunk in rags stumbling along the sidewalk. "A true communist paradise where the homeless are taken care of." Diego sarcastically thought to himself.

It was then that he noticed two officers starting to approach the drunk, with a baton in hand. This wasn't Diego's problem, and getting the attention of local police officers would be of no service to him. Yet, getting involved in the community would help further secure his cover, and the homeless often had a deep and unique insight into the city. It was then that Diego called out to the Drunk man "Uncle? Is that you? Are you okay?" in an attempt to seem concern and then slowly jogged over towards the drunkard.
 
Both of the police officers turn around for a moment and give a visual exchange between each other. The officer with the engaged baton turns around and continues to approach the drunkard while the other police officer, now facing you, moves his hand to his hip and unclips his holster, resting his hand on the grip. He extends his other arm forward, "Stop! This man is being arrested for public intoxication. Do not interfere with this criminal investigation," the officer said.
 
Diego thought to himself that things were oddly similar to the laws of the Federation and couldn't help but wonder if the public intoxication laws were a means to discreetly deal with the poor. Regardless Diego put his hands up and stopped while saying "Whoa, whoa. I don't mean to interrupt officers, but he's not hurting anyone, not even a fly. I swear I'll bring him home and make sure to clean him up. Heck, I'm sure you two don't want to be dealing with him or touching him and then have to write a bunch of reports in the middle of the night all for a petty crime. You guys already have it hard enough and work long hours as is."
 
The officer speaking to you relaxes. "Almeida, let him go. As for you, do not let your drunk uncle walk around these streets at night again. Next time we will take him to jail, where he belongs. Understood?" With that, the officer clips his holster and waves his partner off, walking off in the other direction.
 
"Thanks officers, you all have a great evening." Diego said. The cops in the city were on edge... seemed like things really have been tough in the neighborhood for them, though the briefing had mentioned that the neighborhood had become more sympathetic to the government against the rebels. Diego had to consciously stop himself from breathing a sigh of relief before he turned to look at the drunk man. Diego waited a few seconds for the officers to walk away a bit before approaching the drunk man and speaking to the drunkard "Are you okay? You look like you're having a rough time there, Uncle."
 
"You should have let them hit me," the man said, slurring the words. "They need to see blood to realize what they are doing."
 
Diego frowned slightly and sullenly said "Some people just never realize. Even if it's their own children's blood on their hands." He looked back at the officers who were walking away in the distance. "Too much blood as already been spilled in all this nonsense. There's no need to pointlessly spill more." He added before he looked back at the drunk and said "Come on now. Let me at least offer you some tea or coffee, a shower, and a warm place to stay for the night. I've seen too many broken men already in my life... I don't like to see more. If you want to repay me, then just tell me your story, Uncle. I'll share mine too if you want to hear it." Diego then started to walk back towards his studio and said "This way, Uncle."

If the drunk man followed, Diego would bring him to the apartment and run the shower for him and hand him some spare clothes. Then Diego would prepare a cup of tea for the man and wait for him at the coffee table with the radio turned on to listen to the news if there was any while he waited to listen to the man's story. If the drunk man refused, then Diego would simply go to the nearest convenience store that was open if any, buy the drunk man some food and basic necessities, and then continue on his way to try and find the Jolly Lady after wishing the drunk man good fortunes.
 
The old man follows Diego home. The man left his bottle behind back at the docks and sobers up as you two walk back to the apartment. For awhile, the man just gives aimless ramblings, calling the communists "bastards", "terrorists", and "spawns of Hell." He also curses the Federation, notably General Gustavo Conceição de Souza, the Minister of Defense. Intermittently throughout his incomprehensible mumblings, he sobs quietly, then uttering a prayer.

As you carry this man along, he reeks of alcohol and dirt. His clothes are peppered with holes, stains, and burn marks. His face is cut up and drained, with deep wrinkles betraying his age. His hands are equally dirty, with grime caked under his fingernails, blisters, eczema, callouses, and cuts. He is dead weight as he shambles along the road with you, more so being carried than anything else.

As you enter the apartment, the man sits down on the couch and stares at the floor, tears falling from his face to around his feet. A slow dribble comes from the shower but the water pressure quickly increases and streams of water pour from the showerhead. After a couple of minutes, the water begins to heat up and you leave to draw an outfit for the man to wear. You spare no expense, grabbing socks, underwear, pants, a belt, a shirt, and a sweater. You help him up into the bathroom, closing the door and allowing him to undress and shower. In the meantime, you begin to brew some coffee. You find an assortment of creamer and sugar, in case the man would like any additives.

No news came from the radio aside from music and propaganda lines from the EPLN. They had established control over the radio towers in the area, effectively cutting off Escas' lines of information from the rest of the country.

After the man changed into his clothes and showered, he sat down next to you on the couch and drank some of the coffee you offered. "Thank you," his hoarse voice emitted. He seemed much more sober by now. Maybe it was the time, maybe it was the shower.

"I wish you would have let me stay there and let those vermin beat me. All I want now is to be released from this world," he said, the tears again starting to flow yet his voice's inflection remain unchanged. "I am a dockworker. I have been there for forty-five years, loading and unloading cargo from the ships since before some of these damned politicians and so-called 'thinkers' were even born. Before that, I was a fishmonger, like my father. We would go off the coast every morning to catch fish and bring it back to the Harbor Market for sale. I would wake up before the sun and get my knives together. None of that matters, though. There is nothing for me in this world," he pauses. He drinks some of the coffee and rests his arms on his knees.

"My son was a soldier. When he heard the communists were mobilizing in Nuraniquena, he enlisted and went up with a militia battalion to meet with a Federal provision about fifty kilometers away from the edges of the city. The soldiers there were underequipped. Some of them did not even have enough bullets to fill up their magazines. My poor boy was given an old Cylanian long rifle that had not seen the light of day in thirty years. There were not enough of them to form any sort of meaningful defense and that pig de Souza did not send them any reinforcements. The EPLN hung my boy. They hung my boy in the streets of Nuraniquena and pinned to his chest a note claiming him to be a traitor of the people. He was only seventeen," the man just sobs into his hands. "I want to kill them!" he screams, standing up and squeezing his fist. The vigor does not last long, though, as he breaks for a moment and stares off into the distance. He sits back down and begins to sob into his hands once more. "I want to kill them," he mutters between his tears.
 
Diego silently listened to the older man's story and absorbed the info, tragic indeed. Conflict and war had more victims than the soldiers who were killed and wounded. Families, communities, and the truth... all casualties in war. However, more importantly, there were pieces of intel that Diego could pick apart. Most notably a milita or perhaps Federal Army officer named de Souza who seemingly led a botched defense of the area when the civil war began. As the man's story ended, Diego patted the older man's back and spoke up. "I am sorry to hear about your Son. It's vile what has happened... all of it. Still, your son was a person of principle. I hope you take solace in the fact that you brought up a young man who was willing to fight for what he believed in. My father... wasn't the same. He had fought in the Great War and returned a husk of a man. He worked on the harbor too as a foreman, maybe you know of him, Miguel Castilho-Cardoso? He was a quiet, and broken man... until he met my mother. He was a decent enough father, but... it was obvious that the only thing he lived for was his love for my mother... then when she passed from cancer... he had no purpose to live anymore. The fire in his eyes vanished... he was a dead man walking once more."

Diego fell silent for a moment before he spoke up again. "I hope you will come to respect your son's choices and beliefs despite the outcome and find strength in it. He wasn't a body going through the motions of living like my Father, no he was a true Cacinan who fought for what he believed in." Diego then exhaled in exasperation then said "It is ridiculous. I thought that the self-proclaimed communists would treat the working class better, yet they're willing to beat you... and would have probably even beat my father if he were still alive even though he fought for Cacina in the Great War."
 
"These communists are no more than rebranded fascists. They spout their false stories to the ignorant and hopeful then turn around and impose laws and policies that break down the social order. Since they've occupied Soliguelver, there has been no peace. Criminals run amok like they are playing in their backyard with no interference from the police or communists. The cronies in charge of the local government accept bribes from crime lords and turn their eyes on the people, filling their own pockets. Their claim to communism is and never was about equality and the abolition of oppression, it is about greed. They use it as an excuse to take whatever they want from the people and line their own pockets with the riches of the land. I hate them. They are not Cacinans. They are nothing but liars and demons spurred forth to this Earth by the rotten souls of the ignorant," the man says, frustrated all the way through. He pauses for a moment, chewing on his finger.

"I believe I knew your father once. The name rings a bell. If I am honest, though, with my age and the time I have worked at the harbor, the names and faces all blur together. Regardless of whether or not I know him, he seems to have raised a good son, taking in an old man. I appreciate your hospitality, son," he says, drinking some coffee.
 
"Uncle, if this the case... then surely most people are fed up with the hypocrisy and lies? Rather than allowing them to allow your blood to be spilled upon the streets, would you rather not stand up and expose their failures? It does not have to even be violent since I am sure that there are many who simply want to live in peace. However, could the dockworkers not unionize under your guidance? You've worked there almost your entire life. Surely, the others look up to you and would follow your lead? By unionizing you could demand for better treatment and conditions for yourself and your fellow workers. If the Communists refuse to deal with you, then a strike that stops all harbor work would force their hand and reveal their true intentions to all in the city. If they do agree to deal with you, then you can negotiate for better working conditions and treatment and set an example for others to follow by forcing them to take the needs of regular Carcinans into account... rather than spend all their time and attention working with the Cartels to make money and killing fellow Carcinans in their so called people's revolution." Diego said to the old man.

In the back of his mind, Diego was trying to set up a union of harbor workers with the old man in charge and to keep his personal involvement limited. Diego was here to disrupt and agitate EPLN held territory after all and becoming a union leader would thrust him into the spot light when he was intending to work in the shadows to disrupt the EPLN logistics and war efforts. However, Diego wasn't naive enough to think that an unionization attempt would be met with positivity or peace... no... there was a substantial chance that the EPLN would send in strike breakers and forcefully remove the workers if they didn't stand down from a strike. People would get injured, and perhaps even die in the brawl. But, it would help turn the dockworkers into martyrs and fill others in the area with outrage from their obvious hypocracy... further radicalizing the people in the area away from the EPLN. But, Diego knew that the old man would turn into a sacrificial lamb if this plan came to fruition. He felt a pang of guilt, yet he was well aware that the old man already was willing to bleed to make a statement. Diego wanted to provide a large platform for the old man so that when time came... his statement would reach many people across the city.
 
"There is no place for me among leaders, boy. I am a decrepit old man. My gears barely turn these days. Nonetheless, any strike would immediately be broken. The communists have work camps back east. They can just replace any worker that grows sentiment against them and send the preceding worker to be rehabilitated for the interests of the commune. I can just as much stand up against the communists as I can stand up on my own two legs. The conditions are not bad enough for the dockworkers to hold their own revolution."
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top