~~~The European Freedom Fighters!~~~ A Shifted-Reality Second World-War Role-Play Thread!

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Name: Charles Lefèvre
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Home Country and Town/Region: France; Fontainebleau, Île-de-France
Personality: Quiet; so quiet it's enough to make others suspicious. He can come off as cold and closed off at times, but he's really emotional and easily hurt deep down inside.
Appearance/Picture: His hair is of curly dark blonde and quite shaggy and unkempt, although just short enough not to get in his way. He sports a five o' clock shadow most of the time. Of fairly normal stature, although a bit on the shorter side, if anything. His eyes are a plain shade of brown.
Crush: N/A
BF/GF/Spouse: A widower; sort of.
Skill/Talent: Keeping a close eye on his surroundings and small details. He is fluent in French and German, but knows almost no English. Makes a good guard or spy. He also knows how to style woman's hair and makeup fairly well after years of being around his mother during her job, but it's not like that's a skill to be proud of or find useful or anything.
Weapon of Choice: M1 Garand
E.F.F. Home Group: Rotterdam, Netherlands
History: His father was a bookkeeper and his mother was a lady's maid. As an only child, and often finding himself alone while his parents were busy at work, Charles had to learn very quickly how to rely on himself for care. He often spent afternoons at his mother's wealthy client's house laying in front of a radio or strolling through the gardens, or scrubbing chalkboards at school if he didn't feel like crossing the town or his mother's lady had company. He never made friends easy, but that didn't really matter to him. When the war broke out he jumped to enlist and serve his country. He spent most of his time in Tunisia, where he would eventually meet his fiancée; a Tunisian Jewish woman working in a makeshift hospital. She nursed him back to health after a nasty leg injury and befriended her during his downtime. The two found a surprising amount of things in common with each other and even though the circumstances were bad, they promised to keep in touch and meet again. Unfortunately, when re-stationed to Rotterdam, Charles received a letter from the woman’s parents stating that she had been kidnapped by Nazis along with a few other nurses and patients and very likely killed. Deeply angered and upset, he went for a long walk where he conveniently found out about the E.F.F. while conversing with another man, and joined a few weeks later.
Other: N/A
BYC Username: Zinnia-Hen
 
Perfect Polish said:
Name (First and Last) Yale Schmidt
Gender: M
Age: 30
Personality: tough and hard working. You dont want to bother him when hes working.
Appearance/Picture: Blonde blue eyes. Medium hight.
Crush:
BF/GF/Spouse:
Skill/Talent*: fighter plane
Weapon of Choice: pistol of some sort?
Trained Area of Expertise**: planes
Division: ?
Assigned Town/Area: Berlin Germany
Army Rank: Corpral
History:nothin special
Other:
BYC Username:polish
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Accepted, although two things. First thing is this: the next time you want to make a Nazi character, please PM me first and ask if its alright to make one. You're fine this time, since its the first Nazi main character, but just keep that in mind for the future, alright? Second thing: would it be alright if I added and changed a few minor pieces of the form to smooth it out a bit, if you know what I'm talking about?

Zinnia-Hen said:
Name: Charles Lefèvre
Gender: Male
Age: 22
Home Country and Town/Region: France; Fontainebleau, Île-de-France
Personality: Quiet; so quiet it's enough to make others suspicious. He can come off as cold and closed off at times, but he's really emotional and easily hurt deep down inside.
Appearance/Picture: His hair is of curly dark blonde and quite shaggy and unkempt, although just short enough not to get in his way. He sports a five o' clock shadow most of the time. Of fairly normal stature, although a bit on the shorter side, if anything. His eyes are a plain shade of brown.
Crush: N/A
BF/GF/Spouse: A widower; sort of.
Skill/Talent: Keeping a close eye on his surroundings and small details. He is fluent in French and German, but knows almost no English. Makes a good guard or spy. He also knows how to style woman's hair and makeup fairly well after years of being around his mother during her job, but it's not like that's a skill to be proud of or find useful or anything.
Weapon of Choice: M1 Garand
E.F.F. Home Group: Rotterdam, Netherlands
History: His father was a bookkeeper and his mother was a lady's maid. As an only child, and often finding himself alone while his parents were busy at work, Charles had to learn very quickly how to rely on himself for care. He often spent afternoons at his mother's wealthy client's house laying in front of a radio or strolling through the gardens, or scrubbing chalkboards at school if he didn't feel like crossing the town or his mother's lady had company. He never made friends easy, but that didn't really matter to him. When the war broke out he jumped to enlist and serve his country. He spent most of his time in Tunisia, where he would eventually meet his fiancée; a Tunisian Jewish woman working in a makeshift hospital. She nursed him back to health after a nasty leg injury and befriended her during his downtime. The two found a surprising amount of things in common with each other and even though the circumstances were bad, they promised to keep in touch and meet again. Unfortunately, when re-stationed to Rotterdam, Charles received a letter from the woman’s parents stating that she had been kidnapped by Nazis along with a few other nurses and patients and very likely killed. Deeply angered and upset, he went for a long walk where he conveniently found out about the E.F.F. while conversing with another man, and joined a few weeks later.
Other: N/A
BYC Username: Zinnia-Hen
Click to expand...
You're in. If you guys want to start role-playing just let me know and I'll start the plot.
 
(Awesome, let's get started then, shall we?)


1827 hours, Monday December 1st, 1947.
In a secret room hidden underground in the basement of a popular cafe in downtown Nancy, an E.F.F. strategy meeting was underway. The entirety of the Nancy E.F.F. pocket, plus numberous members of at least a dozen other groups, were all gathered around a large table in the center of the room. There were freedom fighters present from Rotterdam, Belfort, Brussels, and even a few from Paris, as well as numerous other towns. Antione de Landry walked into the room carrying a large rolled-up map and spread it out on the table, putting a paper weight on each corner as he unrolled it. He then straightened up and said above the sound of the constant chatter "Pardon, but we may be getting started now, no?" The rest of the group quickly went quiet, and Antione continued speaking in English, though slightly accented English at that. "Merci. Now, for tonight's agenda we have a bit of a dillema at hand. Zere are a number of viable targets und objectives zat we could go for tonight, but we do not have ze time nor do we currently have ze men or equipment to try zem all. We can go for one, but for right now zat is all we can do effectively. We have narrowed our possible choices down to only a few high-empautance targets, und zis is where ze rest of you come in right now. We need help making a final decision for ze target und objective of zis next mission." He pulled out a school teacher's pointer, a roughly four-foot long wooden pole similar in shape to a billiards stick, but thinner, and began to point out a few specific, highlighted places on the map. "Our first option," he started, "is zis railroad bridge in Thionville. Zis is one of ze most heavily used train bridges near ze French-German border, und it is also ze only way zat trains can cross ze Moselle river und get into or out of most of Lorraine without taking a detour of at least a day or more. Taking zis bridge out would deal a heavy blow to German rail transportation the ze area, but if we do it right ze wreckage of ze bridge will stop up boat traffice in ze Moselle river for a while." He pointed to a second location and resumed speaking. "For option two, we have zat armored vehicle factory near Verdun which started churning out tanks late last month. Zis would potentially be ze most damaging target to knock-out. Ze Nazis have put a lot of effort into setting up zis plant, und if we take it down before it is able to produce more zan a handful of vehicles, zey will have lost a huge amount of resources relative to ze benefits zat ze factory was able to provide." He pointed to a third highlighted area on the map and continued. "Next, zere is a merchant ship off-loading military supplies at ze docks in Pont-à-Mousson. Should we choose zis target, we would have a two-pronged attack. One team would board ze ship und take her over, sail her down-stream a short distance, zen scuttle her in ze middle of ze river, blocking the waterway with ze wreck. At ze same time, while ze Nazis would be occupied with ze cargo ship, anoser team would steal as many of ze loaded supply trucks as ze could and hide zem in a safe location until we can distribute ze equipment to ze surrounding pockets of ze E.F.F." As he finished explaining the third possible plan, and started on the final option, he noticably became a bit uneasy and nervous. "Und finally, our last potential target is ze German airfield in Metz. Not only is zis ze largest Luftwaffe base in Lorraine with at least seven squadrons of various fighters und bombers currently stationed zere, but we have also recieved reports zat a flight of Ho-229's, four of zem to be exact, will be landing at ze airbase in Metz late tonight to refuel on zier way to ze front lines. Any of zese targets would be vaible choices, but we still need help making a final decision as to which one we should hit tonight. Zey will all be dangerous, as are nearly all of our opperations, but zese four are much higher value targets zan anysing else we can attempt tonight. Zat is all zat I have for now." Antione stepped back and Dirk took his place at the table. "Alright, now that you are all aware of the situation, our options, and the potential damage we could do to those Nazi b******* tonight, let me hear what you all think. Any and all questions, concerns, opinions, ideas, and what-not that you have, speak up and tell everyone."
 
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Kenny was there at the meeting with his friends from Rotterdam. He couldn't expressly remember agreeing to travel with them such an uncomfortably long distance in the back of someone's car, but it must have happened some time or other, whether he had recollections of it or not.

Kenny surveyed his friends, who were listening attentively to the speaker, who Kenny had forgotten the name of. He was having to actually concentrate to decipher what the young man was saying, as he had never really been in contact with French people and was finding the accent just a little distracting. But he got the gist of what was going on - they were to pick one of four targets to attack.

One of Kenny's friends whispered something in his ear. This particular friend, Anton, was always very paranoid about speaking English in front of strangers in case he, you know, made a grammatical mistake or something. Kenny had always been very liberal with his attempts at using his crappy Dutch in his adopted home.

"We think," Kenny spoke up in the silence following the proposals by... good lord, what was the speaker's name? "That the tank factory would be a good idea."
Kenny spoke with a cultured London accent, courtesy of his parents and the nice school he had attended, with just the slightest hint of German which Kenny had never bothered trying to hide.
"Considering..."
Anton was hurriedly making notes on a sheet of paper because Kenny was obviously having trouble remembering the brilliant points which had been whispered in his ear just a minute earlier.
"...That the German tanks failed our landing at Normandy and are likely to fail any future attempts at a similar offensive. The air base is a good idea, but an airbase is inherently easier to replace or work around the loss of, and the supply of planes from Germany would not be impacted. We also have, um, doubts about how much we'd be able to accomplish at the airbase - the fuel is after all stored underground and under heavy surveillance 24/7, and the planes are reasonably well separated. There will also be ..." Kenny was straining to read Anton's writing, which was getting smaller. "...More highly-trained combat personnel at the airbase, as opposed to factory workers being the main resistance force at the tank place thingy."

"The main issue my friend has with the ships idea is that it would need to be highly co-ordinated, and once we're all out there at our stations, it'll be almost impossble to get on the radio, and it's a big and busy place to use other signals. There are also a lot of alternate transport routes besides the river, and as we can only take out one target it's likely they'll just compensate for the loss via one of the other arteries. That same point against going for the bridge."

Kenny sat down. Anton was grinning - he probably hoped his English would be as good as Kenny's some day. Kenny remembered something about Anton wanting to live in America if the war were ever over... Perhaps that would be two months away, perhaps two years. They'd make their time in Europe or whatever count for now.
 
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