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 This is home. It's not pretty, but it's what you've got. The city was probably one of those, what'd they call them, metropolises, that's right, back Before. That was then, though. That was before the world got all hosed up, cracked in its very psyche. The city might be dead, but it's still full of motherfuckers who keep on living and want to keep on living. Some of them probably will keep on living. And some of the are going to die before they want to, before their friends want them to, before their enemies want them to. Some people just want to eke out survival. Some, though. Some are more interesting. That's why you're here, of course, seeing if your story is gonna be an interesting one. Nobody lives forever, the Apocalypse proved that. But there are still some immortals, those whose stories are still told. That might be you. But we'll have to find out. Fill out the drat sheets, and we'll go from there. In addition, Tell me: What keeps you up at night? Tell me: What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one? Do not tell me: A lot about who you were. That doesn't matter now. --- quote:Get busy living, or get busy dying. ---
--- Welcome to the Dead City.
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Jul 20, 2017 23:32
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Looking at a couple different ideas. Basically trying to decide between someone with a place (Hardholder or Waterbearer) or a dangerous drifter (Driver or Gunlugger). Also, is the Faceless an option?
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Jul 21, 2017 02:44
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Comrade Gorbash posted:Looking at a couple different ideas. Basically trying to decide between someone with a place (Hardholder or Waterbearer) or a dangerous drifter (Driver or Gunlugger). I've never really liked the Faceless much, so no.
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Jul 21, 2017 02:48
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 It's not really one city any more. There are dozens of holdings, from Junktown to the Crater Monastery. Any man with ambition can make his own little nation of rundown streets and ramshackle buildings. I carved mine out of a wasteland they called the "South Side" before the fall. I believe in Order and in my part of the City we have it. Anyone who disagrees finds themselves branded - quite literally - and thrown out to the wolves beyond my gates. Inside the Kriegsgrad, there is only one law: mine. There is only one punishment: exile. What keeps you up at night? It does not escape my notice that I am exactly one throat-slash away from being deposed. I sleep under the guard of men whom I trust completely - and behind a well-locked door. pre:Name: Corin Look: Man with a strong face, cool eyes, and a wiry body in luxe clothes. Cool +1 Hard +2 Hot +1 Sharp +1 Weird -2 Leadership when you have to order your gang to advance, regroup, hold position, hold discipline, or put their drat backs into it, roll+hard. On a hit, they do it. On a 10+, they snap to; take +1 forward. On a miss, they do it, but you’ll hear about it later. Wealth If your hold is secure and your rule unchallenged, at the beginning of the session, roll+hard. On a 10+, you have surplus at hand and available for the needs of the session. On a 7–9, you have surplus, but choose 1 want. On a miss, or if your hold is compromised or your rule contested, your hold is in want. e precise values of your surplus and want depend on your holding, as follows. Holding *your population is large, 200-300 souls. Surplus: +1barter, want: +disease. *your compound is mostly tents, lean-tos and wooden walls. Your gang gets no armor bonus when fighting to defend it. - for gigs, a mix of hunting, crude farming, and scavenging (surplus: 1-barter, want: hungry). *for gigs, add a bustling, widely-known market commons. Surplus: +1barter, want: +strangers. - a gang of about 40 violent bastards (2-harm gang medium 1-armor). *your gang is well-disciplined. Drop unruly. *your armory is sophisticated and extensive. Your gang gets +1harm. *your garage is for poo poo. It has only 4 vehicles, and only 2 of them are suitable for battle.
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Jul 21, 2017 03:06
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Captain Foo posted:I've never really liked the Faceless much, so no.
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Jul 21, 2017 03:08
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 They say the drugs were cleaner before the world fell, and easier to get too. Pay a man in jingle or sex and you'd get a few CCs of the good stuff to keep going a few days more. It's a bit harder now, but then again, there's no cops to catch you when you slit her throat while she's sleeping and take all the goods for yourself. Good riddance, this poo poo's loving poison anyway. Sweet, sweet poison. What keeps you up at night? Sooner or later this poo poo's gonna bite me in the rear end. Dunno if it'll be someone pissed I stole his buddy's drugs or someone pissed I didn't stick around until morning, but sooner or later they're gonna come for me. What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one? Wherever there's a mattress and an escape route, that's where I'll be. Ain't got time to stick around. pre:Name: Red Playbook: Battlebabe Look: Woman with a strong face, angular body, and indifferent eyes in casual wear Cool +3 Hard -2 Hot +1 Sharp +1 Weird +1 Gear: Ballbuster: Scoped ornate rifle (3-harm far reload loud valuable) Bootsy: Hidden bladed handle (2-harm infinite hand) Six-or-Five: Custom-grip magnum (3-harm close loud) Clothing (1-armor) Ice Cold When you go aggro on an NPC, roll+cool instead of roll+hard. When you go aggro on another player’s character, roll+Hx instead of roll+hard. Visions of Death When you go into battle, roll+weird. On a 10+, name one person who’ll die and one who’ll live. On a 7–9, name one person who’ll die OR one person who’ll live. Don’t name a player’s character; name NPCs only. The MC will make your vision come true, if it’s even remotely possible. On a miss, you foresee your own death, and accordingly take -1 throughout the battle. Hx: Max +3 Mayor +3 SeaDee -1 Vault =0 quiggy fucked around with this message at 17:23 on Sep 15, 2017 |
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Jul 21, 2017 03:59
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Thinking about a Brainer.
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Jul 21, 2017 04:03
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 The future sucks, but now that I'm here, it's going to suck a bit less. Day 2: Food's run out. Did Jackson take the rest? Sweep of stasis found no records, but who knows what's locked in all these rooms. Need to get a better idea of surroundings. Can't make good decisions blind. Next entry when I return from outside. What keeps you up at night? Thinking how we're gonna get things back to the way they were. Or at least getting people back on the right path. I mean, we've got a lot to build with, but everyone I've met is a paranoid nutcase. Just knocking enough heads together to get some basic cooperation going is going to be a feat itself. What part of the city do you call your home? Can't imagine any place in the city safer than Stasis, so I'm still bunking there. There's no food though, so I've got to resupply pretty soon. quote:Name: Specialist Kenning, Harold S. Capfalcon fucked around with this message at 21:55 on Jul 21, 2017 |
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Jul 21, 2017 13:47
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Thinking about a chopper or a Gunlugger. Ah is this 1st or second edition AW?
Mykkel fucked around with this message at 15:57 on Jul 21, 2017 |
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Jul 21, 2017 14:59
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Mykkel posted:Thinking about a chopper or a Gunlugger. Ah is this 1st or second edition AW? thread title says 2e
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Jul 21, 2017 15:10
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Captain Foo posted:thread title says 2e Woops missed that part.
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Jul 21, 2017 15:17
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Thinking about a driver but that might change
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Jul 21, 2017 15:38
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Hope When I was a child I thought 'there must be more to life than just this'. And then, there was. It never leaves me, you know. You just have to learn to live with it. What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one? We have taken a green space and claimed it for our own, spread it as far as we can with seeds and hard work. What keeps you up at night? We are not a violent community. We trade what we grow and I tell powerful men what I see written behind my eyelids, but soon enough someone is going to realise that we can do everything we currently do just as well while enslaved. I am our leader. I must stop this. I don't know how. pre:Name: Hope Playbook: The Hocus Look: Woman with formal vestments, a dirty face, clear eyes, and a lanky body. Cool +1 Hard -1 Hot +1 Sharp 0 Weird +2 Gear: 4-barter Moves: Fortunes Frenzy Divine Protection Followers: My cult, who travel with me if I need to travel. They are hard-working and constitute a powerful psychic antenna. But there are only a few of them (less than 10) and they depend entirely on me. Fortune +1 Surplus: 1-barter, augury Want: desertion, desperation potatocubed fucked around with this message at 18:28 on Jul 21, 2017 |
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Jul 21, 2017 16:10
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I go where the jingle is. So if I show up at your door, it's one of 3 things: Some shithead stole from you, and you want me to get it back. You want a shithead dead. You're someone else's shithead. Gonna be a bad day for you. What keeps you up at night? You know that building over on 7th nobody goes near? The one that smells wrong. Yeah, Every now and then, no matter where I am, when I'm trying to sleep, I smell it. What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one? Right now, I've got a sweet hideout set up on 27th and Madison. It even has a mattress. pre:Name: JB Playbook: Gunlugger Look: Man, scrounged mismatched armor, worn face, sad eyes, and a stocky body. Cool +1 Hard +2 Hot -1 Sharp +1 Weird 0 Gear: assault rifle (3 Harm close/far loud autofire) smg (3-harm close messy) magnum (3 harm close reload loud) machete (3 harm hand messy) kevlar vest, armor shoulder pads (2 armor) Oddments (2 barter) Battle-Hardened when you act under re, or when you stand overwatch, roll+hard instead of roll+cool. Battlefield Instincts when you open your brain to the world’s psychic maelstrom, roll+hard instead of roll+weird, but only in battle. NOT TO BE hosed WITH In battle, you count as a small gang, with harm and armor according to your gear.
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Jul 21, 2017 17:32
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Vault the Steeplejack They all say, this is my city. These are my streets. Every jumped up warlord and half-starved street rat. My block, my alley. Because I've got the guns. Because I know every corner, every crack in the pavement. Bullshit. Those scavs scurry around one little slice and act like they know this place, like it's theirs. None of them have seen the real city. Not like the steeplejacks have. From the top of the highest scraper, into the darkest tunnels underneath. Come back with things people forgot they'd forgotten. And I'm the baddest steeplejack of them all. You can keep your streets. I own the sky. What keeps you up at night?: The fall. I know it's coming. Eventually, every steeplejack falls. And the best fall the furthest. The only question is whether its the fall that kills the body, or the one that kills the soul. What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one?: For now I've got a cot at Yakov's Place. He used to be a steeplejack, until his soul fell and he couldn't climb anymore. It's a good place, for food and for work. quote:Playbook: The Gunlugger Comrade Gorbash fucked around with this message at 21:25 on Oct 12, 2017 |
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Jul 21, 2017 17:54
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Captain Foo, do you want me to roll to get my Weird for my Quarantine now or wait?
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Jul 21, 2017 21:11
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Tenfourr the Driver Hey, heard you were looking for a driver? I'm the best there is ain't nobody know the 'ways and the Vues quite like me. I've been all over this city what's left of her. You got a cargo that needs movin i'll get er there on time and in one piece. See me and old Grinder here go way back  and there ain't no hogrider or tollman gonna get between me and where I need to go. At least not twice anyway. So what'll be hotshot you want me to get rolling or not? What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one? My home is my cab, that way all I usually need is a safe spot to park up for the night, when Grinder needs a little TLC though I usually stop at Stella's Place out on the ring where the sixty six hits the city. She's a pretty fair mechanic and I don't know where she gets it from but she always has plenty of gas. What keeps you up at night? Eventually poor old Grinder is gonna break something that i ain't gonna be able to fix. Where do I find a replacement then? quote:Playbook: The Driver
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Jul 21, 2017 21:32
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Capfalcon posted:Captain Foo, do you want me to roll to get my Weird for my Quarantine now or wait? You can do it now, it'll help us all understand the character better
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Jul 21, 2017 21:42
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The Mayor the Savvyhead Hey, hold this for a second, would ya? Did ya, did ya know, that cities...ow...cities, man, used to be alive? They had personalities and souls and opinions and hopes and dreams and poo poo. Concrete organs and steel brains, asphalt veins and fiber-optic nerves, little human blood-cells flowing through the whole thing. The city was, like, the dominant life-form on the loving planet, man, and we existed in a symbiotic-loving-relationship with them. Everybody thinks that's over, that's the time-before, the cities are dead and we're just carrion-eaters swarming the corpses. You probably think that too, don't you? Well you're wrong, man, you're wrong. This city isn't dead. It's in a coma, it's, it's, on, what did they used to call it, life support. One day it will wake up again - you'll see. Until then, I have a job to do. Y'see, me, I'm the loving immune system. My city hurts. I heal. I'll take that back now, thanks, it should fit right...here...got it. What keeps you up at night?: Too much broken. Not enough tools. Not enough parts. Not enough time. For every one thing fixed, ten more broken. For every one thing that even can be fixed, a hundred more busted beyond repair. Lot of work to do. So much work. Too much work. Can't stop. Can't ever stop. What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one?: Every living being needs a brain, or three, and I live in my city's brain. City Hall's not much to look at anymore, what with the collapsing into a pile of rubble and all, but the basement is still there, and the parking garage. If you head down there and follow the signs you'll find the brain, the control room with the panels and screens and blinky lights that used to be able to tell the immune system any time something was wrong anywhere in the city. A couple of them even still work. quote:Playbook: The Savvyhead Mister Bates fucked around with this message at 00:21 on Jul 27, 2017 |
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Jul 21, 2017 21:48
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Captain Foo posted:You can do it now, it'll help us all understand the character better When you emerged from stasis, the world’s psychic maelstrom rushed in on you. Roll+hard: 2d6+1 10 On a 10+, you were able to receive it without succumbing to it; you have weird-1.
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Jul 21, 2017 21:57
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Corin: who do you know for a fact rightly doesn't fear you, and do they live within Kriegsgrad, or without? Red: who would you go see, if only you could get off the dope? Specialist Kenning, Harold S.: who seemed to have a glimmer of sudden realization when you asked about Specialist Jackson? Hope: who is your most recent follower? Where did you find them, or they you? JB: Any ideas why your pad on 27th and Madison was so available? Ever even think about that before? Vault the Steeplejack: But where won't you go? Place or person or both? Tenfour: who last shared your cab? Business, pleasure, both, neither? They still in the picture? The Mayor: what part of the City rejects your helpful overtures? Everyone else: I see you out there. Talk to me.
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Jul 22, 2017 18:22
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SeaDee See, the Angel *Wheezy breathing*“Look. I’m totally fine if you want to refuse my services. But you will lose that arm to the rot, and I saw three of your people on the way in that had symptoms of the Black Kiss. And I know for a fact that No-Nose got her people vaxed last week. So what’ll it be?” Tell me: What keeps you up at night? The Tombs do not release their children lightly. Some day they will come for me. Tell me: What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one? When I get those few precious moments of peace, I enjoy spending them in the Statuary. Most likely some Before luxe-gently caress’s playground, but I enjoy the tranquil beauty. Plus the large open galleries make it difficult for people to sneak up on me. quote:Name: SeaDee See PoultryGeist fucked around with this message at 03:14 on Sep 6, 2017 |
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Jul 23, 2017 00:40
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Converted RV is fine, but it can't really move. I'll have a question for SeaDee See later.
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Jul 23, 2017 00:41
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Captain Foo posted:Corin: who do you know for a fact rightly doesn't fear you, and do they live within Kriegsgrad, or without? Every day brings a new threat and I toss them into one of two buckets: sane and insane. The sane ones know that loving with Kriegsgrad means loving with everyone whose food and water passes through my market. There's this crazy fucker, calls himself "The Prophet" or something ridiculous like that. Speaks every day on the sins of man, the error of our ways, some days he calls me out by name, poo poo like "trading one form of brutality for another." He seems to think that if we're all just loving nice to one another the world will be a paradise instead of the hellhole we currently live in. I say, if they want to see what the world does to nice people, they're welcome to explore the rest of the City.
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Jul 23, 2017 03:40
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Captain Foo posted:The Mayor: what part of the City rejects your helpful overtures? Oh, sure-sure, people reject my help all the time, when they don't want someone poking around in the piece of my city they've claimed as 'theirs' for whatever-the-gently caress reason. Doesn't even ruffle my feathers anymore. The City will outlive them anyway, get me? if I don't get to their block, then whoever replaces me will. They really would be better off with my help, but it's no skin off my rear end if they say no. I'm here for the City; on average, the City doesn't give much of a poo poo if, like, one random tower-town has working flush toilets or whatever. There's always a billion other something-elses I could be spending my time on. Sometimes, though, sometimes, it ain't the people who are telling me no. Sometimes the City just doesn't wanna be healed - and me, I'm just a cell in the body. Ain't really poo poo I can do when she doesn't want me to do it. There's this one place in particular that she really, really doesn't want me loving around with. There's not much left of the old subway system. A few short stretches of track are clear, and once in a blue moon someone with a handcart or diesel-wagon even uses one to get somewhere, but most of it's going to need a gently caress-off lot of work before it's even close to usable. Old trains on the lines, floods, collapses, weird-rear end beasties nesting in the stations, sometimes just plain old-fashioned rust. About the only good stretch I could make usable again is the Green Line, from Metro Central in Downtown to the South Side. Oh sure, I might be able to do something with the other lines, if I had a pile of jingle, a work crew, and, like, a fuckin' decade, but let's be reasonable here, yeah? The Green Line doesn't have any blockages, no cave-ins, no significant damage I can see. Built of sturdier stuff than the other lines, from what I can tell. There's even still some emergency power in a couple of the stations, somehow. I've tried to get sections of it operational I-don't-even-goddamn-know-how-many times. Every time it eats a pile of resources and every drat time it tries to kill me. I've been electrocuted, nearly suffocated with some sort of gas, sealed inside a station for three days, set on fire, shot at by the fuckin' robot-turret thing mounted in the ceiling at the 89th Street station. It's like it doesn't want to be fixed, like it's offline for a reason. Maybe the City just isn't ready for it yet.
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Jul 23, 2017 06:04
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Captain Foo posted:Red: who would you go see, if only you could get off the dope? Few years back, I was in a bad place. Real bad, death's-door bad. He found me in a gutter, face-down, robbed and beaten and bloodied. Probably didn't think I'd last the night, but I did. Nursed me back to health. Called himself Preacher-Something, Mark I think? Talked about how even in this dead world there was hope for salvation or some poo poo like that, I don't rightly remember, but he's the one man to ever see me as more than a mark or a lay. Stayed there a few weeks as he tried to get me off the dope, but it's not as easy as just stopping. And then... I hosed up. Did something I shouldn't have, I don't like talking about it. He threw my rear end on the street, told me it was tough love. Told me I could come back someday if I've truly changed, if I've found salvation. I don't know if I want that, to be honest, but I want to see him again. I want to know he's ok. And if he's not, you better believe I'm gonna gut the bastard who hurt him.
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Jul 23, 2017 15:15
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Captain Foo posted:Tenfourr: who last shared your cab? Business, pleasure, both, neither? They still in the picture? Ugh, definitely business. I mean don't get me wrong Magpie has a sweet rear end and a cracking rack but I don't stick my dick in crazy. At least not after the last time. See she heads one of the more successful slaver gangs in this town and wanted me to move some of her live cargo across town to where her business partner was. Ha you're kind of disgusted about that ain't ya? Listen bud, morality is fine thing if you can afford it but you know how much gas costs these days? It ain't cheap let me tell you that. And well Mags jingle spends about as well as everyone else. Ain't no blood on that. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah moving my cargo across town. Was a pretty uneventful run didn't have no more than the one gang try to threaten me and they couldn't stop a few tons of armour plated cab ramming through their "blockade" Mags looked almost disappointed at that which should have been my first tip-off something was up with her. Anyway we eventually pulled up inside her little compound. Her "nest" I think she called it. Place was deserted, which should have been my second clue. I parked up and watched as she got out the cab and walked straight up to the main building? hut? hovel? whatever you call it. Only for what looked like a meat mountain to step outside. Now I didn't catch the whole conversation but I got the gist of it, Seems Meat Mountain was doing some sort of hostile takeover. It was Mags that weird me out the most though. Through all his bluster and threats she just kept smiling and nodding. Even as the rest of the gang started to gather in a ragged semi-circle around my truck. Then Mags exploded, I swear I didn't even see her move but she had a pistol in her hands and had put three bullets through his stupid face before any of us could move. That ain't the worst part though. I saw the look on her face as he dropped it was ecstatic as if the kill had well... you know given her one hell of a jolt. One of the gang members was the first to recover bringing up his own gun and pointing it at her hesitantly. But by then I'd already had my own piece drawn and aimed it at him. Mags smiled at them all and asked "anyone else want to question my leadership?" I guess the answer was no since the rest of the gang got to work unloading the cargo. Before too long we were done and well I was on my way. But that ain't the worst part. See as I made to drive off pay in hand. She blew me a kiss. So I hope I don't ever see her in any sort of picture ever again. I'm not that crazy even if she is.
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Jul 23, 2017 16:38
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SeaDee See: I'm sure you don't work for no pay, that's a good way to starve to death. Sometimes people get by on credit and favors, that's the way things go too. But who did you treat for no-poo poo free?
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Jul 23, 2017 17:42
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Captain Foo posted:Hope: who is your most recent follower? Where did you find them, or they you? He calls himself Castle; it's not his real name, but it's not like I was born Hope either. He's... impulsive. Emotional. Focused on here and now and never mind tomorrow. I found him raiding the old homes along 16th. We'd tried that ourselves, since they seemed empty and untouched, but there's something nasty in the air, there. Makes you sick if you stay or eat or drink. He didn't have any symptoms when we crossed paths, but I warned him. He got sick, of course, and blamed me for it. But I brought him back and we let him heal and he just never left. Now he works in the garden with the rest of us.
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Jul 23, 2017 19:56
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Captain Foo posted:SeaDee See: I'm sure you don't work for no pay, that's a good way to starve to death. Sometimes people get by on credit and favors, that's the way things go too. But who did you treat for no-poo poo free? Trashcan Man. Yeah, he’s crazier than a sack of weasels. Yeah, Mox gives me poo poo about the smell every time I patch him up after some gangers roll him. But I’ve seen that tiny little shrine out in the husk of Tobyville. I may be a heartless bitch, but even I have my limits. And who knows, maybe he’ll crawl out of the bottle long enough to unite a chunk of the city again.
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Jul 23, 2017 20:04
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Captain Foo posted:Specialist Kenning, Harold S.: who seemed to have a glimmer of sudden realization when you asked about Specialist Jackson? The weirdest thing about the world now? That rare moment when you come across something that's familiar, but wrong. There's big holes in what I remember from before (cryo-amnesia's to blame for that), but one thing is the old church near Stasis. Only thing is, some nasty pieces of work looked at it and didn't see a church. They saw stone walls, narrow windows, and few entrances. A fortress, in other words. I wasn't much of a religious man before the Fall, but even I'm offended with what they've done with the place. They left the original stone up, but there's bloody, rusty spikes all around the base of the building. They've even got a few people in gibbets along the wall, slowly dying of exposure. It's just awful. Thankfully, I got the drop on one of them paroling around before I was spotted. Jila was a huge beef-slab of a woman wearing a blackened and singed floral print dress. I thought that might be what passes for Sunday best around here, but when I asked her about it, she shrugged. It seems like that's what the people who live there dress like. I asked her some more questions. Lay of the land, other settlements, that sort of thing. When I was done, I decided to take a shot in the dark. I asked about Specialist Jackson. I got a blank look in return, so I started describing how she looked, adding that she'd be dressed like me. After a moment, something seemed to click in her head, and Jila looked terrified.. However, she refused to say anything more. I nudged her with my rifle to suggest that she loosen her lips, but no dice. Seemed like she'd rather be shot than talk about what she realized. Oh, I didn't shoot her, of course. I'm not a murderer. I just gave her a rifle butt to the back of the head and made my escape back to Stasis for the day.
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Jul 24, 2017 03:26
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Captain Foo posted:Vault the Steeplejack: But where won't you go? Place or person or both? That witch hired me on false pretenses, kept me in the dark and feed me poo poo. Did it to some of my friends, and got us killing each other in the end. Upended the city from one end to the other, just so she could grab a piece of it and squat on it. She paid me in the end, and I should have known better than to trust that witch. But she gets no more work. The ban is on her, the one drat thing steeplejacks agree on. No matter how much she offers up for the job. Wartooth can go gently caress herself.
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Jul 24, 2017 03:34
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How do you feel about the Maestro D'?
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Jul 24, 2017 06:51
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Poltergrift posted:How do you feel about the Maestro D'? it's a core playbook, feel free
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Jul 24, 2017 12:36
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Magnificent Max, the News "My dear boy, it's all very well to go on living. We all wish to survive. It's the script, if you will, of all living things. The orders which we are to follow in order to continue to exist. But I propose that survival is not enough. Animals survive. But men and women and those who defy either categorization, I believe that we are capable of so much more. Of beauty, as unpopular as that idea may be in this smudged era. That's why I created The Story. A live performance with no end, broadcast across the city to any that can hear it, a grand analogy for the things that happen in this corpse-town, played out live to a captive audience. An exuberant opera of life and death, love and loss, drawn from the people and events of the city, both informative and performative all at once. My little friends tell me what is going on out there, who is doing what to whom, and all these tidbits become threads that get woven into The Story, performed by my rotating cast of actors at my studio, the Proscenium. "Because if you asked me what made a human human, I wouldn't say it was survival. I'd say it was stories." Tell me: What keeps you up at night? "Ironically, the darkness. The dark is representative of everything I work against. For my Story to exist, to reach its audience, I require light, power, radio waves and people with sets to receive them. Entropy works against those who try to elevate the masses, and I live in fear of the day there will be no more lights, no more broadcasts...just the darkness." Tell me: What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one? "I live at the Proscenium, which sits atop Gull Hill. It's become an odd little community, with fans of The Story and hopeful actors coming here to set up their camps at the bottom of the hill. As I had desired, The Story has brought people together- I have actors, assistants, even soldiers coming to me, wanting to be a part of it. It's really quite something. quote:Name: Magnificent Max, the News Vulpes Vulpes fucked around with this message at 03:23 on Jul 27, 2017 |
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Jul 24, 2017 13:30
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Captain Foo posted:
I'm keeping it warm for a lady named Susan. About a month ago, she decided she was going to try and remove Fat Tim from ruling over the section between 5th and Jefferson and 12th and Monroe. He's the shithead that runs the 4 way stop gang all of their chestplates have a wierd plate with that written on it, no idea what it means) and he had taken Susan's brew without paying for it a few times too many. I offered to deal with the shithead, but she declined said if I did it, whichever of his boys lived would end up ruling the area. So she has cozied up to Fat Tim and making like she needs his protection to run her still. I don't get the full plan. She told me that if she needs me, I'll get the message. You asking about her reminds me, I should pop in on Fat Tim. I could always use a little jingle.
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Jul 24, 2017 13:43
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Magnificent Max: Obviously, you love Gull Hill and the Proscenium. But what's your favorite part of the City?
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Jul 24, 2017 13:44
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Captain Foo posted:Magnificent Max: Obviously, you love Gull Hill and the Proscenium. But what's your favorite part of the City? "I like the Markets. August Grandmother runs the Markets and has done for as long as anyone can remember, and her Charming Grandsons have kept order for about as long. Of course, that means that the Markets are about as safe and stable a place you can find in this City, when people are safe and stable, or at least to a certain degree, that's when you can see them shine. They're not worried about a knife at their throat, or the Burning Time sending men to torch their homes, or about the Ashman. People relax at the Markets. They bargain and argue and tell stories and fall in love and break each other's hearts. The Markets are a venue of hard commerce, of course, don't misunderstand me. But they are also a respite, a place where humans can be human, if not necessarily humane. I get a lot of my material, wandering the Markets.
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Jul 24, 2017 14:21
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Anyone on the fence: I'm planning to close recruitment tonight, so get that app in!
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Jul 24, 2017 14:24
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| # ? Apr 18, 2024 21:11 |
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 Opinway, the Maestro D' You ever realized the miracle that is a working elevator? When the old world took its leave, most that was luxe signed out with it -- pillaged or wasted by no-hopers or sealed up in big stone sepulchers with no keys left, towers full of rotting steak that consequently smelled godawful. I used to scavenge those for old world goods. Not well, mind you; no stairs, no inroads to break in, so we rappelled up the sides. Think remotes, TVs, low-tech nothings, sometimes a working fridge. But then -- like a gift from above -- 48 Golden Valley Terrace. I still remember the look on my brother's face when the elevator pinged open. Working power, working elevators, and up in the penthouses was cornucopia itself. Working lights. A little wine, a little quality booze. But more than that, it was the way it looked. Couches not half-rotten, pools not filthy, dressers of clothing not moth-eaten, ambiance -- do you know how long it's been since I even said the word ambiance? A long time! So we got together suits, dressed up some toughs and pretty folk Paris lent us like old-world waiters, and we opened the Golden Valley for business. Penthouse living on fine couches at long tables, real wood, and light shows, real nice, and -- most of all -- you can look down on the city like you owned it instead of because someone is pitching you off a roof. What keeps you up at night? ...among other things, we're scavengers. Even the best vulture eventually picks all the meat off a kill, and if there's no other fresh meat out there it's back to carrion. And I know I can survive doing what I did before... But I don't know if I want to. Survive like that, I mean. It'd gently caress up my suit, anyway. What part of the city do you call home, if you've got one? Well, I live on the ground floor of the Terrace, so I guess it's... the rich folks' part? Only there's not a lot of actual folks living there, 'cause you can't get in with a broken elevator unless you scale the building, and one thing the old world could do is security that'd last. But there's some people living in a public park nearby, call themselves the Marble Men. They take in homeless people, so they're pretty large. I think Thom "Gunn" Gun is in charge there. Very polite, Thom Gun, but I don't trust him near us. The Maestro D' posted:Name: Opinway
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Jul 24, 2017 20:54
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