Coalition of Communist Crusaders for the Proletariat
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Author Topic: Recruiting, Amerikanski  (Read 1095 times)
Amerikanski
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« on: June 28, 2005, 12:24:55 AM »

I would like to join you....here is my story....

Travis Rollins was born in Greensboro, NC, in 1973.  At the time, Greensboro was a small, blue-collar town with a deep history and great southern tradition, a faded past that was all they had left to hold on to.  The majority of it citizens, those who did not have ancestral money dating back to before the civil war, were in every way average, work a day folk, and Travis’s family was no different.

   The youngest of three children, Travis had an older brother who was a high school football star until a tragic car accident on an old, dark road ended his life and an older sister who dreamed of nothing but getting out of Greensboro, and was pretty enough to do it.  As Travis himself entered junior high, he and his parents were the only three left in a house which had once been much more full, and like a great many of the people who worked in the countless textile mills of the South, things were not easy.

   Travis’s parents worked long days and nights for a surprisingly little amount of money, and both had noted on more than one occasion, the mills did not take very good care of their employees.  Unlike the industrial complexes of the North, there were no unions in Greensboro, no enforced minimum wage, and no medical insurance or affordable medical care.  When Travis’s father’s oldest and dearest friend lost his arm in an accident at the mill, he was left to fend for himself, and without the job that had injured him.  It was this incident, and countless others like it that caused Travis’s parents to seek out change, seek out a way to improve not only their lot, but that of the other workers they saw suffering on a daily basis.  It was then that they heard of a small, new group of similarly minded citizens who worked in the mills and were speaking out against the abuses.  They called themselves the Communist Workers Party.

   Now granted, the Rollins family did not become communists over night.  The word itself generated strange images for all of them…and the US was still very much involved in the Cold War…  Communists, well, they were the enemy…they were Russian snakes who thought to do nothing more than conquer the world and build nuclear bombs.  It took a long time to convince Mr. and Mrs. Rollins otherwise.  It was finally a doctor; a nice Yankee fellow who had often treated the mill workers free of charge, that convinced them communism was much more that what American propaganda said it was.  Communism, he said, would put the mills in the hands of the workers.  It would force owners to recognize the worth, the necessity, the rights of those whom they had for so long taken for granted.  In short, it would ensure than every man or woman who worked a day in the mill would be compensated fairly for it, and treated with respect and care when and if things went wrong.

   Well, if that was communism, then communism was what the Rollins had been waiting for.

   Initially, Travis thought his parent conversion was a bit…radical, a bit strange.  After all, none of his friends’ parents were communists, and this was Greensboro, North Carolina, not Red Square.  He ignored his parents’ political ideals and ranting as best he could, and when kids at school would pick on him, call him a commie or a pinko, he would just laugh it off.  After all, his brother had been popular, and look what it had gotten him.

   Only when the CWP started meeting at his house, did he truly begin to listen…after all, they were a pretty boisterous group and nearly impossible to ignore.  As he began high school, the taunts of his classmates meant nothing to him, and he was a regular at all the CWP meetings.  Though he had no intention of every working in the mills himself, his parents and his friends would be there for as long as they could work, and he now knew that communism was perhaps, the only way for them to be treated fairly.  For his part, Travis planned to attend college, then perhaps law school.  His grades were good enough, and as a lawyer, well, perhaps he could not only help the CWP cut through a lot of political and legal red tape, but make a real difference outside of Greensboro as well.

   The CWP’s numbers began to grow steadily, many disgruntled workers of all colors, creeds, and religions finding something inspiring in their teachings.  The party was optimistic, and on a roll.  It seemed, however, that all of them, Travis and his family included, had forgotten something very important….

   This was the South.

   And for as long as the South had been “the South”, there had been another group residing in each and every one of its towns, a group with enough pride to crush a mountain and a history steeped in blood and violence.  

   The KKK.  And it would soon be evident that in Greensboro, the Communists and the KKK would not mix well.

   The first incident came when the CWP protested and Klan march.  Months later, the Klan returned the favor, stopping a CWP gathering cold.  Travis had been at both gatherings, and when the CWP had interrupted the Klan meeting, they had done so with signs and shouts.  When the Klan had come to them, they had done so with shotguns.  All told, when the day was done, three of the CWP’s founder were dead, including that nice Yankee doctor.

   That had made Travis mad.  What made him even madder was that the local police did not really do anything about it.  It was the beginning of the end for the CWP.  The real end came for Travis and his family when the KKK then sought out the remaining vocal members of the Party to silence them.  The Rollins were among them.

   Fortunately, Travis’s parents had been working when the KKK came.  And perhaps, oddly enough, Travis had been home.  He was sleeping on the couch when the bomb they put under the porch went off, and the explosion was enough to hurl him through the thin sidewall of the house.  The bomb had been enough to leave him broken and bleeding on the front lawn and the Rollins home little more than a flaming heap of rubble.  Travis, badly burned and with the majority of his bones broken, was airlifted to a state of the art hospital in Raleigh-Durham.  There he would spend countless weeks recoup rating, thinking, and getting madder.

   When he was finally healed, he had no desire to return to Greensboro.  Instead, he took a job in Durham, waiting tables and trying to get his diploma.  Once that task was complete, he enrolled at UNC.  He also began to notice that there was something… different…about him now.

   After all, before the explosion he could not move things with his mind, or confuse people who were bothering him merely be thinking about it…. two tricks that came in handy when one was still openly, and proudly, a member of the now-defunct CWP.


   Four years later, at the age of 25, Travis graduated from UNC with a degree in political science.  He had just entered grad school when he met the person that would change the course of his life forever.


   The man’s name was Anatoly Chekovitch, a visiting professor from Moscow University, a physics teacher who was on loan to UNC as part of an educational and cultural exchange program.  Travis’s openly leftist leanings and rhetoric were easy enough for one to spot, if they were looking, and Anatoly saw them plain enough.  He invited the student over to his apartment one evening, and the two of them spent the night drinking Russian vodka and talking politics.  It was the first of many similar nights, and soon enough, Travis felt comfortable enough with the old Russian to tell him about the explosion, and it’s strange side effects.

   Anatoly, who had always jokingly called him the Amerikanski, listened to Travis’s tale with great interest, and when he showed the professor the strange talents he possessed, the older man was delighted.  He told Travis that grad school was a waste of time for someone with his talents, and his skills could be put to better use….

   ….Helping people who needed it.

   Travis thought on the professor’s words, a decided he was right.  Shortly there after he left North Carolina, seeking to do just that, help the people.  Some months ago, he received word from the professor that a group of communist heroes, men and women of great power and political conviction, had set up shop in Paragon City.

   Travis has come as well, after all, where better to hone his skills and further his knowledge, then in a city in need of saving and alongside people of like political bent from all over the world?


<<<
Hello-

My wife has a character in the CCCP and has suggested that I would enjoy playing in the group as well.  She has told me that you all stress role play, team work and general fun more than anything else, and that sounds good to me.  She seems to have a lot of fun with you all, and I think I would like to see just what it is she is raving about.

I’ve played with a few members of your group before, namely Carpathia (back during the Winter Lord days), my wife’s character, Comrade Ivanova, and most recently, Communard.  It was a lot of fun, all are great players and entertaining to team up with…so, per your web site’s request, here are the details on my potential CCCP character along with his history.

A little about me, as you requested as well:  
I am Ian James, I live in Centreville VA, USA, and I am 36.  I enjoy a variety of role-playing games, from D&D to CoH, and I always have a lot more fun with a good group.  Currently, I have two other CoH characters based out of a heavy RP/ team based group called the Impossibles (Pinnacle server) and a heavy duty RP pc in a British SG (Virtue server) but I have heard a lot of good things about the CCCP and on the occasions I have teamed with them, it has been a blast.  I hope to be part of the team soon!  My global chat handle is Tomas Chill and I play usually on weeknights after 8 eastern and a fair amount on weekends.

A little bit about my PC:
Americanski is a science origin Controller (mind/ kinetics, lvl 10).  He was born in North Carolina to parents who worked in the mills during the late 60’s early 70’s, where they also helped to found the Communist Workers Party, a group dedicated to helping the poor, uninsured people who worked in the countless factories throughout the South.  As a teenager, he suffered an accident that left him with unusual powers, but all of that is in the history….  (The CWP was a “real life” entity in North Carolina during the aforementioned era, and since I would have a horrible time trying to type with a Russian accent, I decided to stick closer to home….)


In any event, I hope to hear from you soon!

Ian James
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« Reply #1 on: June 28, 2005, 01:45:54 AM »

Americanski,

Great to see you have interest in our group. Be sure to keep an eye out for an officer in game (and we will do the same looking for you). Our application process revolves around a short probationary period. You may get invited into the SG to facilitate getting teams. But it really is a time for us to get to know you better and vice versa. You get a chance to see how we play and the extent of roleplaying we do. Keep in mind CCCP has a heavy 'cold war' theme. You can deviate from that a bit, but make sure you have a theme strong in communist ideology. So look at your bio/costume and consider making changes if needed.

If you do get in, we like to limit the number of alts in CCCP. With a bit of bio twisting, however, a leftist/communist character outside the Russian Cold War theme will easily fit in our alt group, "Young Champions - CCCP". So after being with us a while, if you have an alt or two that might fit in our group, Young Champions is a great place for them to be.

Untermensch (Function 5, Chug)

Other Officers (limited list): Bestial Boy, Red Saviour II, Communard, Soviette, Carpathia, Svarog
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« Reply #2 on: June 28, 2005, 04:49:32 AM »

Is werry inspiring to see how Communist thought can reach even into heartland of capitalism to give hope to workers! I am eager to meet this young man. He is clearly sturdy role model for other Amerikantskii youths.

Ah! Name is joke! I get it! Ha! Ha!

/lights another menthol
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