The Great Upheaval [Reserved RP, NSFW, Anthro + Human]

(yo more isolated than north korea, primarily with me and my boy Zaknel, but yeah we’re open to more people– although only if they actually pledge themselves to this shit)
 
(expect roleplay realism, as in overpowered characters being limited (fine, magic is not OP in equestria, but don’t be a ultra-powerful unicorn mage who can explode mountains) and basic “logic laws”, where your character can not travel from canterlot to fillydelphia in two seconds and the such)
 
A millenia of “peace and plenty” it is, so the words describing the sole rule of Princess Celestia in the last thousand years. Indeed there is peace, indeed there is plenty: Celestia’s wisdom, ever growing by each passing year, has steered the nation into high social prosperity, with Equestrians not fearing war nor poverty (to a certain extent on the latter).
 
The nation too has begun fighting back at the Everfree forest, also expanding it’s external borders outwards, driven by success for colonisation of “unexplored” territories.
 
Yet, it must be questioned, this absolute power that Celestia has– does it corrupt? Through a millenia of prosperity and peace, not a single oppositionary voice from a civillian spot exists. The Equestrians are so different, random, with each caring for their own destiny– holding their own ideas about the world. How come that the monarchy praises itself as hosting a “benevolent principality”, playing as if 99% of the nation aprooves of Celestia and her “rehabilitated” sister Luna, the 1% being “foreign threats”.
 
Yet what of the policy of “making friendship”, where Equestrians pursue an aggressive policy of forcing neighboring states to accept the idea of “friendship and harmony”? Gryphonia, Zebrica, the Crystal Empire have had their leadership convert to a pro-Equestrian stance, despite their continued defiance and opposition of further allying the Equestrian state.
 
Is Equestria a manipulation on a manipulation? The absolute monarchy/diarchy exercising unbreakable power through a bureocracy and omnipresent aristocracy, denying the civilian non-privileged population of taking a determined stance to pursue their own political programs. Why must Equestrians in issues wait for a single authority to see to their problems? Why are they not allowed to elect their own representatives?
 
Yet, a certain group of “queer shipwreck survivors” have caused for public attention in Fillydelphia, the primary Equestrian port city to the east.
 
Of course, it’d have been lovely to see them be helped– that what has been done by the compassionate populace, but what if these strangers are not just grateful for the help, but also willing to answer some. . very. . very odd questions, and reply to them with very. . . very . . . dissident questions?
 
Character Sheet:
 
Name:  
Age:  
Gender:  
Race (Unicorn, pegasus, gryphon, ya-da-da.):  
Affiliation (Monarchy or Rebel?) (This is not permanent, you can change it through the RP!):  
Position/Status (Royal Agent or Vile Beggar? [or other, sniff]):  
Appearance (Optional):  
Background (Optional):
 

Name: Zaknel  
Age: 22  
Gender: Male  
Race: Unicorn  
Affiliation: Monarchist  
Position/Status: Assassin  
Appearance: Short, slender, whit coat, black mane.  
Background: Unknown.
 
(Any comments, questions, or concerns?)

@Zaknel
 

@Zaknel
 
Want me to kick it off?)

(@Chef Unionista ZGU  
Don’t you need a character first, or are you just the narrator?)

@Zaknel
 
I’m the narrator babaman, who will tend to all your RP needs.)

@Zaknel
 
The sound of pulled-carriages and voices outside was muffled by the closed, thick glass window of the room a very certain assassin was in. The room was a very large one, decorated with furniture clearly fit for a upper class person. Although it had the looks of a working chamber, with a large writing desk in the middle, a wasted cigar in a ashtray it bore.
 
Close to the in red-curtained window stood a aged, salt-pepper bearded pegasus, dressed in the fine military uniform of a royal guardspony: White fabric, lined with decor of gold and a few pinned medals on his chest. He was probably around his 50s, but the way his shoulders lined straight spoke of vitality; determination in his blue eyes as he watched the populace of Fillydelphia on the street beneath go to their daily business through the window.
 
“Zaknel. .” He looked over his shoulders, to the assassin, who was infront of the working desk, facing the old officer, “I know you’ve been reserved to minor issues in your young career,” he began, soon turning his body fully around, approaching the desk, looking at the unicorn with a formidable frown, “your young person must certainly be bursting with energy at the sound of a more important task, no?”

@Chef Unionista ZGU  
“Excited? Bursting with energy? I don’t think any of those really capture my excitement at the idea.”

@Zaknel
 
The officer let out a chuckle, opening a drawer within the working desk, pulling out a fat looking cigar, clipping the end as he nodded to those words. “You know, Zaknel, I’m glad to hear about that,” he’d proceed to close the drawer, taking out a lighter gilded with silver from his uniform jacket, lighting the cigar, “public servants like you are the reason why our nation is at peace.” - “Servants like you who stop anarchy from taking place and who support our Princesses in making every single Equestrian enjoy a level of prosperity envied by nigh almost every foreign state.”
 
Done with the praise, he’d place the cigar between his lips, seating himself down on his chair close to the desk, drawing on the cigar, proceeding to let out a puff as he began explaining, “exactly that enthusiasm has made you a glowing candidate– a beacon amongst your colleauges. So that is why we want to confer a special task to you to perform: Surveillance of a group of foreigners.”
 
Surveillance. . ? That didn’t sound any different from what he used to do: Espionage, information gathering. . and sometimes making certain violent persons hurt. But it didn’t seem out of the routine.

@Chef Unionista ZGU  
I felt very disappointed to hear this. “Is there anything in particular about this? Are these ponies deemed a more significant threat than everyone else I have yet spied on? or, what is so special about them?”

@Zaknel
 
The officer let out another chuckle, “that’s the thing. They’re significant– and let me tell you why.” He’d take out his cigar, after another mighty puff of smoke, the room soon smelling after rather finely wrapped, burnt tobacco.
 
“They’re not ponies. Tartus, they’re not even Zebras, Gryphons, Changelings!” He’d let out a mighty laugh, “they’re so alien they’ve begun importing their personal opinion onto the crowds of our citizens who want to see them.” - “And that’s where the issue begins, and I’m sure you’ll find out how dangerous it is when you see it for yourself.”
 
He drew on his cigar again, speaking whilst smoke dribbled out from the edges of his mouth, “they’re here in Fillydelphia. It’s fortunate you won’t take really much time finding them, they’re close to this building of the local Royal Constabulary, over at the local Grace Hospital in the Southern Docks.”

@Chef Unionista ZGU  
“A new species? This will be very interesting, indeed!” I said with the widest smile on my face. “I will stop them from spreading corruption by any means necessary!”

@Zaknel
 
The officer nodded, gesturing for the door, “go get ’em.”

@Chef Unionista ZGU  
I calmly walked to the elevator, and headed outside for the hospital, trying to blend in wih the carefree population, as I approached.

[OOC: This looks like a HIE(Human in Equestria) concept.]  
[OOC: You saith this is open to others?]

(@HatOfDisguise  
It is.)

@HatOfDisguise
 
da)
 
@Zaknel
 
As he left the local Royal Constabulary building, he’d be met with polite smiles from the middle class of Fillydelphia– well-dressed mares following gentlecolts, carriages of respectable importance driving on the well-plastered roads. The buildings here were not luxury, but they were cute to look up to, little brick things lined in rows, with some tall brick apartments there and there.
 
The Western Districts, so it was called, home of the “middle class entrepretours”. But he was going towards the Southern Docks and as he went from street to street, he’d be passed rather rushedly by frowning Constables into the Southern Docks. From the gateway leading from one district to the other, he’d pass a concrete wall, the housing beginning to detoriate: Windows lacked panels in certain areas, roofs were damaged from extensive rainfall, the ponies (and a Gryphon there and there) here looking less rich than only minutes ago. But there was not only the view of less-luxury housing and a humble populace of hard-working sailors of the Southern Docks, Zaknel also saw the vast Eastern Ocean, stretching out wide across the horizon. Sailships drove in and out of the docks.
 
As he approached Grace Hospital, he’d see a mediocre group of curious people and sailors standing idly around the fenced entrance, a trio of Constables watching over the hospital’s entry, armed with batons and frowns. A single sailor-look matching, earthpony sailor was drawing something on a board, Zaknel making out the visible letters as “If you’re here to see the foreigners, go away. If you’re here to treat your ill health, please do com–” The rest was blocked by the drawing sailor, who’d be mumbling, watched over by one of the younger Constables.
 
The Grace Hospital was a ancient building, clearly once having been a local public library from it’s look. But the red crosses that decorated the large posters on it’s walls highlighted it’s new purpose. It’s beige walls were gaining a grey-ish tinge of decay, the posters having lost some quality of color. Most windows were covered with green sheeths, clearly to keep the patients undisturbed, although there were wider windows that were open, primarily around the ground levels.
 
He could get through the gateway easily, since he was indeed a servant of the Crown.

@Chef Unionista ZGU  
I presented my ID card to the officer. “I heard that there were some foreigners here, and I was told to just check on them for a bit, and see what they’re like.”

@Zaknel
 
The Constable, one of the older ones from the trio, had his moustasche tremble as he huffed, “aye, so it is. Carry on into the hospital sir– you won’t be able to miss them. This whole damn city is up in arms about them! And to be honest with you, sir. .” He’d lean close to Zaknel, “I’m a tad bit excited about it too! I’ve seen a glimpse of them when we dirigated a rescue squad to help them from their shipwreck– and by Celestia, they’re something I’ve never seen before!”
 
A mid-aged Constable set his gloved hand on the shoulder of the older Constable, pointing to the open oak doors that were part of the hospital’s primary entry, “ignore this childish old man, sir. The foreigners are being courted by the local medical personnel on the first floor, at the former book hall.”

[OOC: I am not sure how to join or I would(difficulty specifically with “position”) since I am about to have a pocket of freedom in about twenty minutes.]

@Chef Unionista ZGU  
“So, I will find them on the first floor. That should not be too difficult, and I can ask the medical staff if I must.” I walked through the doors, and looked around.

@Zaknel
 
“Godessspeed Sir,” the mid-aged Constable tipped his uniform hat to Zaknel, a shout coming from the gathered crowd.
 
“Oi, you let ‘im in, but not us! You donkeys!” A boy it was, causing a murmur of frustrated agreement to resound from the crowd. Zaknel last saw four fresh pegasus Constables fly in from the sky to reinforce the gateway watch.
 
They had the situation in hand.
 
Meanwhile, Zaknel smelled antiseptics and soap as he entered the hospital, the interior painted white, local residents standing or sitting idly around there are there, probably more concerned over family and friends than foreigners. It was like a large reception, filled out with the few people, some medical staff and rusted metallic furniture– and what seemed like makeshift seats on a overturned bookshelf.
 
A large, open hall door led into a much more larger part of the hospital, given to the size of the stairs which he saw through the doorway, which was watched over by a with revolver armed securitystallion, his uniform a sharp cut black with a grim symbol bearing armband on his right arm. A makeshift plastic board above the doorway had text written in red: “Upstairs > 1st Medical Hall!”
 
Another door led into a thin hallway, tagged “supplies - keep out non staff!”
 
The Constable of great age said the first floor, Zaknel remembered, a coughing, wretched looking pegasus walking past him to the exit, his supposable companion– a mare somewhat older than he, using her own body as a support for him.
 
“Can’ even treat ’em proper no more, tsk tsk. .” She mumbled that under her breath, but Zaknel could overhear it: His sense was refined as assassin.
 
But of course, trivial chatter. .

@Chef Unionista ZGU  
I proceeded to check through the windows of the doors as I walked by them, and try to find someone who wasn’t from around here.

@Zaknel
 
He’d see the stairs move upwards, a makeshuft elevator by the side, some of the crumbling paint carrying traces of torn posters.
 
The security stallion approached, questioning, “oi, what are you skulking around now? It best not be about those. .” He’d grumble, “atleast the people are not so up about it like during the first day. Now go bugger off!”
 
He should show him his ID, at the best.

@Chef Unionista ZGU  
“Oh, it is about them.” I said as I reached out and presented him an ID card. “I was instructed to meet them, and see how they are.”