The American Experiment (Riot Quest)

Guns of Liberty:

The night was filled to the brim with the smell of fire and mosquito's as the young men in the house looked at the letter that was given to them. There was nothing more that they could truly understand, that hadn't been decided for them.

"The Hell is wrong with them? They know that the Cubans are fighting for their own liberty, same us, but they decide that to not do anything. Cowards, all of them!" One of the younger, wild members spoke, the pistol on his side was out, though he was being safe. He knew that such brazen fury was not tolerated, but the point needed to be made. He needed to show just how much this statement upset him. Liberty was never something that could be given, it had to be taken. By force.

Yet the oldest member of the group sat, taking a long drag from the cigar, and listening. His weapon, carefully in its holster, was not drawn or waved around with reckless abandon. There is nothing about the man that could be construed as wise. But calm… Calm was what the old man was. In his old, tired face, with sunken brown eyes and determined purpose… That was but one thing that was in them. Recognition of anger.

The young man gazed down at him with the fire of youth, the self righteous belief that the pistol in his hand was all that was needed to change the world. A look he had seen many years ago, and many years since, those halcyon days of his own youth.

Too long that old man had seen it on the face of so many others. But he was not hastily with his anger. Not yet. "And what should we do?" He asked. The question cut through the air like a flame through the swamp, traveling above the water like magic. Like kerosene being poured in by men chasing them, trying to burn them out. "Run guns to them? And what if they are caught? Providing more fire to the hatred already brewing, those white fools that see us as nothing more than slaves? Fight them?"

"We are always fighting them!" The young man replied as he looked at the older man with fire. Even now, it was filled with a determination that only the young. The young and the foolhardy.

"And what happens if they decide that they stop torturing and brutalizing us, and see us as they did the Indian?" The old man's voice was low and soft, filled with a calm tone that only a man born in bondage could have. But unlike many, he was never broken, like so many others.

He would not understand, but for now, he had the fire. He had the freedom that the old man never had until he was the boy's age when he had almost resigned himself to being nothing more than property. Yet he did not have the wisdom. He did not know just what it felt like to be nothing more than an animal to some rich fucking white man.

And he pray to the Lord God, that that boy would never know that horrible feeling.

"We aren't Indian." The young man stated. "We won't go over like that, I swear."

A moment passed "Aye. We aren't. But you will stow those rifles. You will keep them safe and sound, and there will be no more talk of the Cubans or giving them rifles. Am I clear?"

The young man stared on with that same foolhardy look "…so be it." He said at last.

(Notes: written with Magoose help, whom I thank do very much, I'd ask for something like a lynching being avoided due to a FAM force being present, and whatever mechanical bonus that entails.)

Self Before Power:

(Jack Olsen POV)

You wanted to bang your head up against the wall, and scream out the door with the amount of work that needed to be done. In fact, it was almost impossible for you to get anything done, with the fear and loathing within the many forces that were now encroaching. SUS was moving in, and dare you thought that meant trouble might be coming, whether they wanted to start something with you, or just the Republicans, and you would be caught in the unceasing crossfire that would work entirely… not in your favor.

It was times like these where you wished that you had a staff to actually help you, rather than relying on help for whoever walked through that door. The same people who knew that you had more coffee than blood flowing through your veins just to keep the lights on, and the entire place running smoothly.

Speaking of things running smoothly, and help to come through the door, Art Randolph appeared, covered in soot and mud from the late winter rainfall. "Still here? Don't you ever sleep Jack?" The other primary shot caller in the office you reside in had a small, sad frown adorning his face, as he looked and saw the coffee mug and the piles of papers. Dispatches from Washington from the Congressmen, Labor Reformers asking for more money, and even more calls from the more… orthodox Georgists wishing for you to cut funding together if you did not do anything about the men you mobilized after… Gompers.

That fucker was still haunting you to that very day, hiding behind his glimpses and honeyed words, lying to you with a straight fucking face, before you sprung him. It seemed like every day that the whole fucking name rang, even more, to drag you down, and destroy you, feeling every bit of… Well, you wanted to say something more, hold your promise and destroy him.

But you didn't have that power. Not then, not now… dare you to say, not for anything. But he still didn't know that, whether through ignorance, or just plain arrogance. He did not fear you now. All he saw was an ally against his more pressing enemies.

You narrowed your eyes and sighed. "Gonna be leaving soon." You muttered as you looked at Art. "What are you doing here?" You asked.

"Nothing much." He replied. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay."

He was hiding something, deep behind those caring eyes, he was hiding his darker… side. You knew it well enough since you first met the man. Yet now, it was something you desperately needed to ignore.

It was too much to worry about politics. Too much to care about your friend. "Well, I'm okay." You sighed as you looked at the cold coffee that was still sitting on your desk. "I wish we had more help?"

Art snorted and then laughed. "I'll be sure to remember that at the next meeting, getting you more help." It was nice to see your friend smiling after so much stress and… his own disappearance for a few days.

You didn't ask about it, you didn't want to know. Deep down, you were just happy that your friend was going to be alright. "So, what do you think?"

"I liked it better when we didn't have to worry about several cities, the Legislature, or congress." Art replied with a huff as he sat down. "The work we've done is good, and it will make people rich, but…"

"But?" You asked.

"I don't want it to kill you, my friend." He replied with a gentle nod of his head.

You smiled, and you genuinely appreciated it. "It won't kill me."

But then your mind wandered, plans forming in your head as you looked at the ideas. The possibility that if there was success, success could continue to make things better. Just one more election, just one more good showing, getting people to see just how much things can be better with their ideas… just one thing going right, and there would be… a future for this organization. "We need to start thinking of the future."

That made Art frown. "And?" He asked.

"We need to start funneling resources and money towards campaigns in the Dakotas, and I was thinking we need to go full tilt to"

Art stopped him, raising a hand before he shook his head. "Jack."

"Yes?" You looked at your friend and saw him continue to shake his head.

"No more politics. You're going to sleep." He said. "Tomorrow, we can talk about it."

Art then walked to the door. "Please."

You nodded and looked at your coat and jacket. "Okay."

You then looked at them both and left your office for your home. "You need rest Jack… Everyone needs rest." Art replied as he held the door open.

"Thank you." You replied, as the door to your office, was shut behind you.

AN: Well there is now some more omakes for the pyre.

Enjoy friends.

@Physici May I ask for a roll bonus for the policy goals? Or gathering more people if that is not available?

"The Socialist Labor Party, and the Marxian doctrine, has stood from the beginning for the unity of the socialist movement and of it and the workers' movement under the banner of political action. Hillquit and the New York branch are doing no more and no less than putting these principles, and the resolutions of the International conference, into practice, as did the whole party in last year's general election." -Daniel De Leon, 1897

"The working class of New York has never been closer to seizing real power, real prosperity, and real control over their lives and fortunes. Yet there remain those who would throw it all away in one moment of spite, and call every other suggestion a betrayal. The RFAA has always stood for the abolishment of the capitalist state, and the creation and encouragement of alternative mechanisms to that state has proven more successful at that than any number of bombs or bullets. If the creation of those demands we fight to defend them, we fight; And if it demands we participate in elections to knit veils and create shields to protect them, then we participate. And damned be the one who thinks their pride is worth more than the workers' victory!" -Albert Deluccia, 1897

The 1897 election for the freshly consolidated New York City, and the path leading to it, was a strange one for the Socialist Labor Party. The largest city in the United States of America and the first stopping point for vast numbers of immigrants, New York was a familiar political battleground for the SLP, and over the 1890s had gained a reputation as a hotbed of radical thought rivaled only by Chicago or, more recently, New Orleans. It was of little surprise that the United Front would campaign heavily for it.

However, of the various radical left ideologies, it was not the Socialism of the SLP that the people of New York City had proven most interested in, but Anarchism. The Revolutionary Federation of American Anarchists, founded and still largely based in New York, had flourished across the 1890s, growing to an organization over 200,000 strong, with many others sympathetic to them across both the city's poor and unionized workforce, the latter of which the RFAA had played a key role in organizing. Any campaign by the SLP would need the RFAA's support if it was to have a realistic chance of success.

This would be far easier said than done. Though both the RFAA and the SLP were members of the United Front, the animosity between Red and Black had not yet faded. In fact, many leadership figures within the SLP had spent much of the 1880s and early 1890s denouncing Anarchism and elaborating on how the Socialism the SLP preached was both different and superior. For their part, the RFAA remained immensely skeptical on the virtues of participating in the statist electoral system, and tended to do so only in horse-trading arrangements or as solidarity with the rest of the United Front. Active political campaigning, even for a fellow United Front member, would be a significant step beyond that, and many within the NYC Councils (and outside of them) advocated organizing their own separate counter-elections for Anarchist democracy within the city, though this was shot down due to fears of a crackdown and the risk of splitting United Front efforts. Even so, the idea of actively campaigning for a bourgeois election was a prospect that let to many furious shouting matches, both within the various councils themselves and with other United Front members discussing the importance of participating.

Nevertheless, the main line of the United Front to its Anarchist members was a promise that these electoral campaigns would enhance, not detract from direct action works. The NYC elections would, in the eyes of many Anarchists, be the test of that. Besides, even the most stubbornly hardline Anarchist could see the benefits of a sympathetic mayor in their city. So the RFAA's NYC councils, with varying degrees of reluctant grumbling, prepared to mobilize to support the SLP's campaign, with the understanding that a victorious SLP mayor would do his utmost to provide legal cover for the future development of Anarchist society within New York City and the disruption of the bourgeois mechanisms that would normally be used to restrict it.

For the SLP's part, the candidate chosen was an ironic one with the benefit of hindsight. Morris Hillquit (born Moishe Hillkowitz) was a Jewish immigrant, having immigrated to the USA in 1884 at the age of 15, thanks to the efforts of his father. Having joined the Socialist Labor Part in 1887 at 18 years old, Hillquit was one of the key figures in the American Jewish community's radical left, and one of the founders of the Arbeiter Zeitung [Workers' News], a Yiddish paper designed to reach that community. Hillquit however, had spent the early years of his time as an SLP member being one of its most outspoken crusaders against Anarchism, with extensive articles in the Arbeiter Zeitung about the contrasts between it and Socialism (the latter of which was consistently shown as superior.)

Yet Hillquit's opinion of Anarchism would, almost reluctantly, soften somewhat as the RFAA expanded across New York City, and later much of the Northeastern USA. Many of Hillquit's fellow Jews were fed by Anarchist soup kitchens, and participated in their mutual aid societies, and read the Anarchist Worker's Post alongside articles from the Arbeiter Zeitung. Moreover, as one of the lawyers of New York City who was a radical leftist himself, Hillquit found himself defending accused RFAA members in court, attending some of their more public meetings (occasions which resulted in more than one argument or fistfight over the finer points of political ideology), and forming something of a reluctant understanding with what was now the largest Anarchist organization in North America. In 1896, Hillquit wrote yet another article in the Arbeiter Zeitung about the differences between the RFAA's new form of Anarchism and how better suited it was to mingling with Socialism, compared to older, inferior versions of the movement, alongside more sheepish retractions of prior articles that had targeted and lambasted the RFAA specifically. Though seen and criticized by many as little more than hasty, awkward backtracking, it was, at least to many within the SLP's New York branch, a sorely needed olive branch as part of the United Front's attempts at rapprochement between red and black.

It was in this environment that Hillquit and the RFAA found themselves as strange bedfellows once again during the 1897 election. Hillquit was a respected figure within the SLP, and one who the RFAA could trust, or at least find acceptable to cooperate with.
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@Physici If accepted, I'd like the bonus for this omake to go to reducing the internal discord and backlash the RFAA faces for committing as heavily to electoral politics/political action as it is this turn. If that's not valid, then I'd like it to go to a boost to the SLP NYC mayor election itself (or the RFAA campaigning for said election if that's not valid either.)

The Minutemen Mobilization: Informant report

"How are the Minutemen responding to recent events?"

"There is talk about forming a militia. Beyond merely the bounced around idea of play fighting. They are preparing for conflict."

"That is worrying. Any idea why? Since they seemed more interesting in theory-crafting since their founding."

"They see the same thing we do. They see the 40 acres movement forcing the Jim Crow law supporters on retreat, they see the events of the south leading to one side, likely the White Supremacists pulling a coup and threatening democracy."

"So, they want to aid socialists?"

"'Freedom doesn't spring from the barrel of a gun.' They believe that the mere idea that one could correct voting through force of arms to be highly dangerous, and one that could destroy the very foundations of our nation. So more accurately, they are preparing to defend against whomever attacks first, while under no illusion of whom will likely attack first."

"The democrats would likely be very unhappy about this turn of events, considering until the 40 acres movement appeared they enjoyed dominance in the south."

"Only by doing their best to control who can vote, trying their best to cut out black votes whenever possible. After all, this isn't the first time their control was threatened. And we know what happened last time."

*The handler sighs*
"'That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.' This may end up becoming more relevant in the future for the South. for the Dixiecrat policy of selectively enforcing laws when politically expedient may be enough to push them to go further."
A/N: This is a little something. may not be omake reward worthy, but I figure that my plan would lead to factions noticing and reacting. And possibly establishing a bit of the whole 0 efforts to form any sort of force, and now throwing everything at that and getting info on what is going on down south. And honestly, patriotism would likely be the main driving force behind the change.

Zimmerwald1915 said:

(sing to the tune of the chorus to the Song for Bridges)

Oh, the bosses they are worried, and Roosevelt is scared
But a million men and women will be blunt
That we've seen them coming, and we have long prepared
We'll fight like bloody Valkyries in the United Front

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@Physici
For an omake, reworking this into an in-universe campaign song, same tune:

Let us tell you of a tailor, Morris Hillquit is his name
Let us tell you of his comrades who the bosses tried to frame
Let us tell you how we beat 'em in the streets and in the court
And why you'll make our comrade the new Mayor of New York.

The year was eighteen ninety-four, the bosses had their way
Ol' Victor on the railroad had a sixteen-hour day
While Morris cuffed for pennies in the garment factories
So when one walked out the other did in solidarity.

CHORUS:
Oh, the bosses they are worried, and Roosevelt is scared
They fear the growing union don't you see?
The working men and women, the dark-skinned and the fair
When we vote for Morris Hillquit, RFA and SLP.

They picketed the waterfront, the ferries couldn't dock
And the railyards in New Jersey filled up with rolling stock
So up stepped George B. Roberts, and to the bosses' tribe
Said "Worry not now, gentlemen, I'll fix it with a bribe."

The cops marched down Tenth Avenue, the money in their snouts
Though they had their orders to stand down, so easily they'd flout
The piers would run with blood that day, but the story wasn't done
For with twenty murdered strikers one dead cop made twenty-one.

CHORUS

Well, that was eighteen ninety-four and in the time since then
The strike was settled but the city charged a dozen men
Not a one of whom was there that day, anarchy was their crime
And the bosses thought Haymarket would come 'round a second time.

The bosses and the city brought the prisoners to dock
But the jury let them go that week to the bosses' bitter shock
For the questioning would show the dirty bloody-handed plan
And at the bar stood Morris, with every working man.

CHORUS 2x

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Bonus to either electioneering in NYC (take your pick of UF's, RFAA's, or ACUA's), or to Hillquit's results directly, please.