In the city of Seattle in the year 2082, human beings are born without lungs. The only things that sustain your beating heart are food, drink, and silence. Over the course of your lifetime, you are only able to speak ten thousand words. Then that's it, you are dead. Game over.
Looking for someone to blame? Don't bother! No normal person in this society questions why they were born the way they were. Their lives are managed perfectly by The Progenitors, ruling from what used to be known as Columbia Tower in downtown Seattle but what is now known as the Black Spire, or just the Spire. The majority of the other skyscrapers have been torn down (some appear to have been destroyed by some unknown cataclysm) to make way for farms and ranches. The common folk, especially the lower class, live in the multi-level apartment complexes of the few skyscrapers that remain. The more well-to-do live out on the farms and ranches in beautiful homes with manicured green lawns and the best access to the finest technology the Progenitors provide. They do, after all, provide the city with food. Why shouldn't they be treated with favor?
There are a select few who make Vows of Silence. They have formed a coed monastery on the outskirts of town, a rarity to have such a big structure so far away from the Spire. Their order is known as the Tacuit Autem (Silent Ones). They are the chief producer of textiles for society. The Progenitors provide education through rigid classrooms, but they don't mention the Tacuit Autem beyond these few facts. To join the Tacuit Autem is considered by many to be a cowardly act, not living life to its fullest.
The city is surrounded by a glowing pink soundproof forcefield. "To keep the Loud Ones out," say the Progenitors. The Loud Ones are mutations, creatures whose sole purpose it is to hunt by emitting piercing sonic waves that can physically damage a human brain. Then, once you have been sufficiently rendered defenseless, they swoop in for the easy kill, clamping their jaws full of serrated teeth around your neck, severing you from this world.
Unfortunately, everyone in the bubble has been born with juvenile arthritis that has persisted since birth. Their hands are prone to paroxysms of intense pain if they try to use American sign language to communicate, or if they do anything with their hands beyond light gripping (i.e.: pulling, tugging, pushing, twisting). As a result, even the farmers and ranchers have to be provided with special machines from the Progenitors to help with harvesting, castration, and soil tilling among other related duties.
Think you can live forever? Nice try! The silence eventually drives those with low fortitude to commit suicide...or find a way outside the forcefield, which might as well be suicide given that the outside is surrounded by howlers. Sometimes, if you're lucky, a howler might just slip through.
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I'm thinking that one person (maybe two people but no more), likely co-GM(s), may have the privilege of RPing as a Progenitor due to the fact that they clearly have secrets they keep from the general populace. If anyone is interested or has any questions, feel free to reply below or PM me! If this thread garners a sufficient amount of interest, I'll post an OOC bit for it. Which section would y'all prefer I post this in? I am torn between Free and Advanced given the unique one-liner nature of the dialogue options.
GOAL: One overarching question your characters CAN ask themselves is "Why do the progenitors keep so many secrets? Are there any other cities like ours? Why do we have to live like this?" One way or another, at some point, they should discover (or it will be revealed to them) that breathing existed. Then the question becomes: "why did our ancestors do this to us?"
Looking for someone to blame? Don't bother! No normal person in this society questions why they were born the way they were. Their lives are managed perfectly by The Progenitors, ruling from what used to be known as Columbia Tower in downtown Seattle but what is now known as the Black Spire, or just the Spire. The majority of the other skyscrapers have been torn down (some appear to have been destroyed by some unknown cataclysm) to make way for farms and ranches. The common folk, especially the lower class, live in the multi-level apartment complexes of the few skyscrapers that remain. The more well-to-do live out on the farms and ranches in beautiful homes with manicured green lawns and the best access to the finest technology the Progenitors provide. They do, after all, provide the city with food. Why shouldn't they be treated with favor?
There are a select few who make Vows of Silence. They have formed a coed monastery on the outskirts of town, a rarity to have such a big structure so far away from the Spire. Their order is known as the Tacuit Autem (Silent Ones). They are the chief producer of textiles for society. The Progenitors provide education through rigid classrooms, but they don't mention the Tacuit Autem beyond these few facts. To join the Tacuit Autem is considered by many to be a cowardly act, not living life to its fullest.
The city is surrounded by a glowing pink soundproof forcefield. "To keep the Loud Ones out," say the Progenitors. The Loud Ones are mutations, creatures whose sole purpose it is to hunt by emitting piercing sonic waves that can physically damage a human brain. Then, once you have been sufficiently rendered defenseless, they swoop in for the easy kill, clamping their jaws full of serrated teeth around your neck, severing you from this world.
Unfortunately, everyone in the bubble has been born with juvenile arthritis that has persisted since birth. Their hands are prone to paroxysms of intense pain if they try to use American sign language to communicate, or if they do anything with their hands beyond light gripping (i.e.: pulling, tugging, pushing, twisting). As a result, even the farmers and ranchers have to be provided with special machines from the Progenitors to help with harvesting, castration, and soil tilling among other related duties.
Think you can live forever? Nice try! The silence eventually drives those with low fortitude to commit suicide...or find a way outside the forcefield, which might as well be suicide given that the outside is surrounded by howlers. Sometimes, if you're lucky, a howler might just slip through.
_____________________________________________________________________________________
I'm thinking that one person (maybe two people but no more), likely co-GM(s), may have the privilege of RPing as a Progenitor due to the fact that they clearly have secrets they keep from the general populace. If anyone is interested or has any questions, feel free to reply below or PM me! If this thread garners a sufficient amount of interest, I'll post an OOC bit for it. Which section would y'all prefer I post this in? I am torn between Free and Advanced given the unique one-liner nature of the dialogue options.
GOAL: One overarching question your characters CAN ask themselves is "Why do the progenitors keep so many secrets? Are there any other cities like ours? Why do we have to live like this?" One way or another, at some point, they should discover (or it will be revealed to them) that breathing existed. Then the question becomes: "why did our ancestors do this to us?"
