When all but a few roleplays are dead... //OxO//CLOSED

Ooh i like the POW and guard/general thing if you wanna do that

Great, I like it as well! So which role would work better for your chara?

Honestly…he would be best as a Britishman. Whether hes the POW or the guard is up to you, though I would prefer POW? I'm okay if you would rather be the POW though

Okay I can be the guard/general. I'm not the best at doing that "type" of person(if that makes any sense at all lol) so just fyi.

Oof that's totally fine. So a German/Japanese/Italian guard, and a British POW?

Yeah! I'll do a German guard and are you still going to start it?

Alrighty! Yup i can, if you want

That would be great actually. I won't be able to respond for a while though.

(alright. That's totally fine, dont worry about it)

James sat in his cell, staring up at the ceiling. He had been in here for a good two months, and he had lost weight. So much weight. God. He was just skin and bones now, it felt like. And it was so cold. It wasn't even bloody winter yet, but it was cold in the cells. He only had a scrap of a blanket, hardly anything that could keep him warm. He was shivering, jaw clenched to keep his teeth from chattering.

(bump?)

(Oh man I thought I responded!)
Arther sighed as he sat down at his desk. He let his head drop onto the desk. He was definitely not cut out to be a soldier and he just wanted the war to be done and over. But he had to serve his country and Hitler was doing a great of convincing the German population that he was doing the best for the country.

(oof it's fine)

James took a deep breath, coughing. The air here smelled of rot and mildew and despair. If that were possible. He had been captured two months ago, a POW and suspected spy. He didn't know how he was still alive. Bruises dotted his too thin body, marking the spots where he had been beaten into submission for saying the wrong thing, or refusing to say anything at all.

(bump again? Sorry not meaning to be rude I just really like this RP idea and I want it to continue)

(No need to be sorry at all! And I don't think you're being rude. We, by we I mostly mean me lol, just need to get this rolling and then I'll definitely be more inclined to reply. I think I'm not replying as much because I don't really understand why people would be like people were in ww2 and I feel like I don't play characters like that very well. But I can keep doing it though. I'm busy rn but I'll try to reply in a hour-ish)

(Alright! Okay, I understand completely what you're saying. Do you need some suggestions/ideas for it? Maybe on why the Germans acted that way? I've actually done a lot of research on it, and it's because the country was essentially brainwashed. The treaty that was made at the end of WW1 crippled Germany, sinking their economy really really badly. They were desperate for someone to fix it, and so when Hitler came along, they were willing. In Europe, at the time, there was already a lot of anti-Semitism (anti Jews), and so it was easy for Hitler to slowly turn everyone against the Jewish people. It wasn't all at once, it was just slowly taking away the rights of Jewish/Non-aryans that lived in Germany, and making the "real" Germans (aryans), believe that they were superior. WW2 came about because Hitler basically goaded everyone into action, starting off WW2. The concentration camps, where they imprisoned Jews, Gays, and sometimes POWs, were slowly ramped up into the horrors that they became. They weren't even counted as real prisons by the law, which is why to this day they are known as "camps", not prisons. Idk if this actually helped or not, but I hope it did?)

(I actually knew most of that lol, but thank you so much anyway. As I said I'll try my best, but maybe my boi is just a more sensitive German that isn't as harsh idk.)

(lol alright, no problem. Alright yeah, that works!)

Arther kept his head on the desk, closing his eyes. A memory from several months earlier played in his head. He was happy helping his parents on the farm, crushing on the girl of his dreams -he thought-, and his brother would soon have him and his wife's second child. Everything was great, not minding the condition of Germany.
Arther often recalled that memory and the feeling accompanied with it. Now his brother was part of the Wehrmacht and his family were often threatened by bomb raids. And now he was stuck in Stalags dealing with the poor prisoners of war.

James closed his eyes, and started to sing. It was a Scottish song, called "Loch Lomond". "Oh you take the high road, and I'll take the low road, and I'll be in Scotland afore ye, where me and my true love will never meet again, by the bonny, bonny banks of Loch Lomond." His voice was low, and soft, but cracked a little with exhaustion and pain.

(you should look the song up, btw. The best version I've heard is by Peter Hollens)

Arther managed a small smile at his memory. He always did that, ending up falling asleep after a bit, this time was no different. His head in his arms hunched over his desk.

(so how do we want them to meet?)

James kept singing for a while, and then a guard slammed a hand on the cell. "Halt die Klappe, englisches Schwein!" The guard snarled. James broke off. "Arschloch!" He snapped in reply.

(Hmm I'm really not sure lol)

Arther was fast asleep by then but rudely awoken from his criminally light sleep by the night guard. He jerked up and wildly whipped his head around, sighing once he realized no one was there. He leaned back into his chair, covering his eyes with his hands. He hated how dedicated to war and violence everyone was. 'Win the war by any cost' 'I don't care if it's inhumane, they don't deserve to live anyway' 'Man up, Arther, this is for the greater good'. He didn't believe any of that, but he definitely convinced people that he did.

(lol hmm…what exactly would be his job with the prisoners? Would he oversee interrogations in any way?)

The guard snarled something at James, then spat at him through the bars of the cell, then continued walking. "Bloody fritz bastards." James muttered, curling up on the hard cot that was his bed, the thin blanket wrapped tightly around his shaking shoulders. It was so cold. So cold. He couldn't find it in him to sing again. If he did, he might start to cry.

(That would work!)

Arther once again placed his head on the desk with his eyes closed. Not much later he fell asleep. This was common, he almost never slept in a bed anymore.

(alright! Wanna timeskip to an interrogation, then?)

James closed his eyes, curling up in a ball on the hard cot. He had to try and get some sleep before tomorrow. Before the next interrogation where they would wring screams from his dry throat, and blood would run down his body.

(Yeah, I'll do that!)

Arther awoke to the ringing and banging of the guards waking up the prisoners. He jerked up and tiredly rubbed his eyes. He pushed himself out of the chair, running his fingers through his hair a couple of times before walking out of the door. He watched as the prisoners lined up for roll call. He shivered in the cold, just imagine how cold it was for the POWs. He shook his head and made his way to the interrogation rooms.

James shivered slightly as the guard awoke him. He had grown used to having constant goosebumps from the cold, grown used to shaking and shuddering and shivering as he tried desperately to warm himself up even a little. He took a deep breath, not resisting as he was led into one of the interrogation chambers, and he was tied down to a chair so he couldn't fight back, couldn't resist whatever they were planning to do to him today. He kept his chin lifted. "Bloody Jerries." he mumbled under his breath.

Arther walked into the room behind as other guards left the main on. He studied the man in the chair, he looked surprisingly pretty confident. Arther on the other hand wasn't ready. He waited for someone else to come into the main room so he could start. He was so glad he didn't have to do any of the real torturing or anything.

James's confidence was a façade. That was all. In reality, he was terrified of what they were about to do to him, but he wasn't about to let them know that. His eyes flicked to the man who had come in. "You're new." he said aloud, wondering if this German even understood English. He doubted it. A second German came in. This one he knew quite well. This was the German who knew exactly how to make him scream. He couldn't suppress the shudder that rippled through his body.