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Taisho Roman Revolution
[ Everything fades to black...and you awaken in an opera house.
You're wearing servant uniforms, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME% in the year %CONTEMPORARY%+1. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing the results of a recent attempt at revolt in a city in %COUNTRYNAME%: worker’s success at managing a nearby gold mine led to dreams of every man being a king - the revolutionaries may have been successful had it not been for a concurrent jailbreak and mass slaughter putting local authorities on alert, buying time for military intervention - the town was nearly levelled to the ground, with few survivors.
But you seem to remember - you survived, didn’t you?
...Also, below the main headline about the failed revolution, there's something about Those Who Crave Hands? Huh.
Anyways, you've got marketing to do! ]
You're wearing servant uniforms, and a newspaper informs you that you are currently in %COUNTRYNAME% in the year %CONTEMPORARY%+1. The newspaper is otherwise actually fairly unhelpful, aside from something detailing the results of a recent attempt at revolt in a city in %COUNTRYNAME%: worker’s success at managing a nearby gold mine led to dreams of every man being a king - the revolutionaries may have been successful had it not been for a concurrent jailbreak and mass slaughter putting local authorities on alert, buying time for military intervention - the town was nearly levelled to the ground, with few survivors.
But you seem to remember - you survived, didn’t you?
...Also, below the main headline about the failed revolution, there's something about Those Who Crave Hands? Huh.
Anyways, you've got marketing to do! ]
no subject
straight into the trash bin. And all is well, aside from being literally dumpstered. At least - all is well until a gust of wind blows through, rattling you and all of the trash you’re lying on top of. And then suddenly you find that you have a few small cuts on you - well, that’s not so bad, is it?
But another gust blows through, and you have a few more. Blood oozes slowly from them, but - well, you can probably staunch it, right? But then there’s another. And another. And another. And another - it doesn’t stop until you’re bleeding from your entire body as if a hole was opened up in your chest, but the process takes so long and it all stings so much that you’re kept alert throughout, and the feeling of having the life drained from your body as if your soul is leaking from every one of the thousands of wounds coating you is palpable.
But at least once you’re back with the rest of your unit, you’re all sewn back together again - you’re still dizzy from the bloodloss, and any breeze, even the slightest movement of air from someone walking past you opens up a new set of cuts - but at least you’re not dying anymore. That’s nice, isn’t it? Another chance to be worth something! ]