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Historical Fic. RP:
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Historical Fic. RP:
Historical Fic. RP:
WARNING: You don't have to know a lot about history to do this RP. I will be posting background historical information.
Hey guys! So, I started a story, based off of one of my favorite movies, NEWSIES, and I thought about how much fun a Newsies RP would be. The story takes place in 1899, in New York City, at the time of the 1899 Newsboys Strike. If you join, you can take one of these character jobs:
NEWSIE: ages-7 to 17 years old. Your job is to sell The New York World, a newspaper run by Joseph Pulitzer. Newsies were mainly boys, but I will accept one girl newsie. Post a nickname hat suits you, as well as your real name.
RICH KID: Age 11-17. Your family knows Mr. Pulitzer, and you can choose to be for or against the Newsies strike.
FACTORY WORKER: Age 9-21. Your life is extremely hard, as you are just a kid, and can't go to school, because you have to work all day. Can be girls or boys.
NEWSPAPER WORKER: Age 29-60. You work by distributing newspapers to the newsies, and to try to shut the strike down. You are against the strike.
NEWSPAPER REPORTER: Ages 21-60. You either work for The World, The Journal, The Times, or The Sun. If you work for The Sun, you can report on strike news.
NAME: Willow
NICKNAME(S): "Will" "Eagle"
JOB: Newsie
AGE:13
N OF NEW YORK CHARRIE LIVES IN: Brooklyn, as she is one of Spot Conlon's newsies.
BACKGROUND: Her parents died when she was six, leaving her alone on the streets of Brooklyn. She was taken to The Refuge, a kids jail, at age eight, for stealing food. She escaped after inly a day, because she was so skinny, she sld through the bars on the windows, and climbed down to the streets. She ran away back to her old home by the docks. There, she was taken in by an old friend of the family's, Spot Conlon, who is only a year older then her. They both became newsies, and both her and Spot gained a reputation for being the best newsies in New York. Her dream, however, is not m qq. Mo hawk headlines, it's to write them. She is very smart and loves to learn and read and write, and a talent and a passion for it.
POSITION ON THE STRIKE: Will is all for the strike, and she was the one who convinced the Brooklyn newsies to help the Manhattan newsies with the strike, after spying on them to see if they had the guts to go through with the strike, and FIGHT!!
Please post if you want to join! We'll see how many people want to join before we start the RP.
submitted by Willow, age 13, New York, 1899
(May 4, 2016 - 9:57 am)
(May 4, 2016 - 9:57 am)
Please top!
(June 19, 2016 - 5:41 pm)
Willow~
We got our papes, like 'dere was nuttin wrong, and set off to Sheepshead, swingin' our papes like 'dere was no tomorrow. I anticipate just making money normally today, an' with Grin frontin' fer me, I should be able to.
As we walk along, one of my braids slip out from under me hat, an' before I could tuck it back in, a couple of rowdies, stepped out of a groggry, and grabbed me by the arm.
"What you done, eh?" they sneer, staring deep into my eyes, their's shaking slightly. I yanked back, or at least attempted to, as the larger one gripped me so tightly, I could feel my very veins collapsing. "Leavin' me fer 'im?" They pointed to Spot, and I felt my hear skip a beat, as he grabbed me, an' pulled me close.
"Youse is got da wrong goil!" I scream desperately, and before the sluggish men can react, I've kicked him in the family jewels, and slammed my fist deep into the other's tender stomach. Spot and the others crowd around me, as I kick them to the side.
"Don't ask," I mumble, as Spot pulls me aside, and asks me what happened.
"Youse is getten' older, Will," he says. "It's dangerous. From now on, keep yer hat on when youse is away from me, okay, Princess?"
Princess.
For some reason, the name changes the whole command.
(June 19, 2016 - 9:19 pm)
TOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
(July 3, 2016 - 8:23 pm)
Sad top :(
(July 4, 2016 - 6:00 pm)
This is awsome!! Top
(July 6, 2016 - 10:33 pm)
Oh, I hope this isn't dead. I'll try and keep it going in the meanwhile.
~
Wally walks me to the factory again the next day, after tales of what he'd done with his friends, the newsies, from the day before. He'd given me a whole silver dollar from some nice lady who'd stopped by the place and just handed them out! "I tells ya," Wally said, eyes wide. "She had on fancy clothes and went off in a carriage! And gave us these!"
"Must be from Uptown," I observe. That was curious. People like those usually didn't care much for those like Wally and I.
As my friend stops in front of the doorway, I continue into the factory, waving him goodbye. I turn and nearly trip over Valeria, bending down to adjust something in a basket.
"Oh! Sorry, Val, I didn't notice you." I say as she gets up.
"Obviously," she says, rubbing her side. We walk down to our rows, positioning ourselves in front of the machines. Poor kid on my other side is already half-asleep again.
"You know, there's something my father likes to say," Valeria starts as the machines whirr to life.
She thinks for a moment until it seems like the right translation of her words click into place. "When the masters are fighting, the servants are hurting." She finishes.
"So...when the rich make war...it's the poor who suffer." I say. She nods.
I laugh dryly.
(July 7, 2016 - 5:54 pm)
I have traveled back in time! Let's make the present time like Dragons of Tarkir! Wait, that is an MTG reference that makes no sense.
(July 7, 2016 - 6:46 pm)